A Lesson in Vengeance
by fieldagent85
Summary: A look at what could have happened following Zoey Bartlet's abduction.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Will the President accept it?" Will asked, anxiously.

"He has to," Leo replied, ever the stoic one.

"Yeah," Toby said, skeptically. "But will he?"

Leo paused for a moment, and the staff searched his indifferent expression for answers.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

They held their breath as their boss continued.

"I made a call."

Immediately, they knew. Each of them, instinctively, except Will.

"To whom?"

He was the newcomer still, and had a lot to learn. Nobody blamed him.

"Really?" CJ asked, slightly shocked.

They had been working at the White House for nearly five years and it had probably taken them every one of those years to be prepared for this moment, to understand, to silently acknowledge.

"Yeah," Leo confirmed.

They knew their president. They knew his strengths, and they knew his weaknesses. They knew what made him tick, and what ticked him off. And they knew, just as well as anyone, that the President was less likely to focus when a certain someone wasn't around.

"Who? Who'd he call?" Will continued to question.

The rest of the staff ignored him. He would understand eventually; he was a smart kid. They'd let him figure it out on his own. A little tough love never hurt anybody.

"Do you…think that was wise?" Toby said, cautiously. "I mean, considering."

Leo nodded.

"No matter the circumstance, this was the way to go. It's the only way to get him to focus. There isn't a person in this room who has the power to ground him like she does."

"But, Leo," CJ said, softly. "You don't think it could only distract him further?"

"She won't allow it."

Will frowned, his head swimming.

"Who are we talking about?"

Again, they ignored him. Give him a minute or two, they figured, he'll get it.  
"I hope you're right," CJ said.

Toby cleared his throat, awkwardly.

"Is she bringing…?"

Leo nodded again.

"So far as I know."

Will breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh. You mean the First Lady."

CJ smiled at Will with amusement.

"We knew you'd get it."

"She's bringing…him?" Will asked.

"Yeah. I couldn't ask her not to," Leo answered, calmly.

"Leo, the President's going to go out of his mind if she brings him into this building," Toby pointed out.

"Where is she staying?" CJ questioned.

"Right here," Leo replied, matter-of-factly.

"She's staying here? Where's he staying?"

"Here."

Will shook his head in disbelief.

"If this backfires, I would like to make it clear that I objected to this plan from the beginning."

"Duly noted," Leo said. "I'll take full responsibility. But you'll see. It'll all work out."

"Good afternoon, ma'am," Amy Gardner greeted her boss nervously, cautiously, even timidly, as she stepped out of the limo.

"Good afternoon, Amy," The First Lady replied, pleasantly.

Amy thought she sounded a bit too nonchalant for a woman in her situation, but she shrugged it off.

"Mrs. Bartlet…"

And soon, the First Lady shrugged her off.

"I'm sorry, Amy, could we do this later? I have some unfinished business to take care of first."

'I'll say,' Amy thought. Unfinished business didn't do it justice.

"Of course."

"Good."

Cue fake First Lady smile. Amy smiled back and nodded curtly. Abbey continued down the hallway of the West Wing, complete with her 'hooker boots' and sunglasses. She had never looked unattractive a day in her life, but today especially, she was dressed to kill. And the way she walked through the building like she owned the place, made her seem like she had a license to kill as well. And yet, she had acted like nothing was wrong when speaking to her trusty Chief of Staff. As if nothing at all had happened. As if she still belonged.

Abbey Bartlet's ability to act casual under the most unusual and stressful of circumstances never ceased to amaze Amelia Gardner. She knew her boss. She had known the First Lady for nearly her entire life. But from the day Jed Bartlet was sworn in as President of the United States the first time, nothing was quite the same. Oh, she was still the wonderful, awe-inspiring Abigail Bartlet she'd always known, but something was different, something was a bit askew. Amy never could quite put her finger on what it was. Nevertheless, none of that could have ever prepared her for the events of the last few months.

Oh, well. Amy would catch up with her later. Then, they would chat, like they always did. Or at least, she hoped they would. Now, more than ever, there was absolutely no telling what Abbey Bartlet's next move would be.

"What the hell have you been doing while I've been gone!"

The senior staff jumped with alarm. Leo McGarry did a double take, at the sight of her. She looked marvelous. Honestly, he hadn't expected her to.

"Abbey." Leo grinned.

She walked over and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm glad you called me," she said. "God knows Jed never would have."

Leo laughed, uneasily. Abbey turned to the woman standing next to him.

"CJ."

"Mrs. Bartlet. Welcome home. Er…back."

Abbey looked at her suspiciously for a moment, before giving her a hug.

"How have you been?"

"Fine. Thank you, ma'am."

"Toby. William."

"Good to see you, Mrs. Bartlet, really," Will insisted.

"Thank you, Will."

"Yes. It's…good to have you back, Mrs. Bartlet," Toby said, quietly.

Abbey leaned in and kissed him on the cheek as well.

"Thanks."

"You…you let your hair grow out," CJ observed, nervously.

"Oh! Yeah. Well, cutting it only brought me bad luck. I figured I'd had enough misfortune."

"It looks very nice, ma'am."

"Thank you!"

"Why don't we all have a seat?" Leo suggested. They all complied, sitting around the table in the War Room.

"So. Is there a reason my husband isn't in here with you?" Abbey asked. "Or did he just hear I was coming and flee the immediate vicinity?"

"He's in the Residence," Leo replied.

"Avoiding confrontation, yes."

"Mrs. Bartlet, you have to get him to agree to Haffley's terms," Toby said, cutting to the chase.

"He'll do what he wants to do, Toby. I can't force him into decisions. I can coax, I can influence, and I can suggest, but I can't force."

"She doesn't even have to do anything," Leo said to Toby. "Just being there is enough."

Abbey squinted, her gaze falling upon Leo.

"He…he can't focus without you, Abbey. You know that," he clarified.

"Even now?"

He nodded.

"Even now."

"Tony's with me," Abbey said, after a short pause, as if testing the waters.

They all looked up.

"We know," Leo replied, evenly.

"He's meeting with some people for…tea, I believe it was. He'll be here later. I…I wanted to talk to you all, talk to Jed, before he arrived."

"Mrs. Bartlet…we're not, or…I'm not, so sure that having Sir Prescott here is…such a good idea," Will stated.

"Well," Abbey sighed. "That's unfortunate."

"Will's right, ma'am," Toby agreed.

"Ok, look. Let's just get everything out in the open here. This is me, this is Abbey. Let's talk about this. I know you're all upset with me. But, honest to God, you don't know the half of what's gone on these last few months. Not even you, Leo. You don't know the details of what's happened between my husband and me, you don't know anything about Tony, you can't understand, not in the least bit, the affect the Zoey thing has had on our family. I'm in a very difficult spot right now. I'm caught between two worlds."

"Try three or four worlds," Toby muttered, under his breath.

"Yes! I'm caught in three or four different worlds. You don't know what that's like!" Abbey exclaimed.

"And apparently you don't know what it's like to do what we've been doing all this time. You want to know what the hell we've been doing? We've been covering your ass!" Toby shouted, matching her volume.

"Toby!" Leo admonished.

"I apologize, Mrs. Bartlet."

Abbey shook her head.

"It's ok. Drop the Mrs. Bartlet, I told you, this is Abbey, all right? Now, go on, let me have it."

"The problem, Abbey, is that, like you said, we don't understand. No one understands. You haven't given us a chance to, and that's fine, because it's your business. But I'm the one standing in the press room every day, faced with answering questions about you. Where you are, what you're doing, why you're doing it, who you're doing it with…and it's embarassing when I have absolutely nothing to give them. Day after day. And then to come into the office one day to find you on the cover of People Magazine socializing in a public place, alone, with English nobility?" CJ said, her eyes filling with tears.

"What CJ is saying, Abbey, is that…we had to be the ones to tell the President. He didn't find out any sooner than the public did. And that wasn't fair," Toby said. "Since that day…you've been the top story in the press room. Why? Because nobody understands! They have no information! They know only what the paparazzi's cameras tell them."

Abbey nodded, slowly, absorbing everything she'd just been told.

"I'll make a statement," she whispered.

"Abbey?" Leo said.

"I want to make a statement to the press, explaining things. Well, most things anyway."

"I think that's a very good idea," CJ said. "We can work on it together."

"Thank you. I'm going to go and…make my presence known to my husband," Abbey said, with a slight smile.

"Ok," Leo replied, smiling back at her reassuringly.

"He's in the Residence?"

"Yeah. Do you want me to let him know you're coming up?"

"Nah. I'll surprise him."

"Abbey, just…please be careful."

Abbey looked at him sideways.

"Leo, he's my husband. You don't have to tell me how to act around him. I've been doing this dance for thirty-seven years."

"Yeah, I know, but he's not…he's not the way you left him, Abbey."

"Tell Amy I'd like to see her in my office in an hour please."

"Sure."

"Thank you."

As her First Lady exited the War Room, CJ Cregg couldn't help but notice how she had changed over the past few months. And she couldn't help but wonder how things had gotten this far, how it had come to this. She had never seen it coming. Never dreamed that something like this could ever happen to Abbey Bartlet, to the Bartlets in general. She hoped when they sat down to prepare her statement for the press, that Abbey would fill her in on the details and tell her things she should have known weeks ago, months even. And she hoped that, after all this time, she would be trusted with the information of how this all began.

In the dour ages Of drafty cells and draftier castles,  
Of dragons breathing without the frame of fables,  
Saint and king unfisted obstruction's knuckles By no miracle or majestic means, But by such abuses As smack of spite and the overscrupulous Twisting of thumbscrews: one soul tied in sinews,  
One white horse drowned, and all the unconquered pinnacles Of God's city and Babylon's Must wait, while here Suso's Hand hones his tack and needles,  
Scouraging to sores his own red sluices For the relish of heaven, relentless, dousing with prickles Of horsehair and lice his horny loins;  
While there irate Cyrus Squanders a summer and the brawn of his heroes To rebuke the horse-swallowing River Gyndes:  
He split it into three hundred and sixty trickles A girl could wade without wetting her shins. Still, latter-day sages,  
Smiling at this behavior, subjugating their enemies Neatly, nicely, by disbelief or bridges,  
Never grip, as the grandsires did, that devil who chuckles From grain of the marrow and the river-bed grains.  
-"A Lesson in Vengeance," by Sylvia Plath 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Six months earlier Washington, D.C.

"I thought they were staying in New Hampshire," Leo McGarry said, sitting down on the couch in the Oval Office.

"So did I. And apparently, so did Zoey. It's all very last minute," the President replied from his seat beside the couch.

"Europe, huh? Well, that'll be nice for them anyway. Liz and Ellie going?"

Jed shook his head.

"They've all got previous engagements, according to Zoey."

"Zoey told you about the trip?" Leo asked.

"Yeah."

"What did Abbey have to say about it?"

Jed hesitated.

"I, uh…I haven't spoken to her in over a week. Not since they left."

"You're kidding," Leo said. "Whatever happened to three times a day?"

"Shot to hell, it seems," Jed replied.

"You don't think she's…?"

"I don't know. She's not speaking to me. If she was angry, there would be no way I could get her to stop speaking to me."

This was true. Everyone knew it. When Abbey Bartlet was angry, she didn't let it simmer. She made sure her voice was heard.

"So what do you think then?"

"I think she's way beyond angry, Leo. I think that ship has sailed. Now it's more serious."

"Has this happened before?"

Jed shook his head.

"Not like this. We've never gone this long without speaking to each other."

"What do you want to do? You want to go to New Hampshire for the day and make things right, or what? I can arrange it. I know how important your marriage is to you, we all know."

"No. I'm gonna give her some time. She has every right to be upset with me. And she's been thrown off-balance. We all have. Things will calm down soon."

"You're sure?" Leo asked.

"Yeah. She'll come around. When they come home from Europe, I'll shower her with flowers and gifts. I'll send her love letters and leave her long, yearning, desperate messages. She'll give in."

"Jed, even I know Abbey's not that kind of girl."

Jed laughed quietly to himself.

"Yeah, but eventually she'll get annoyed and come home, if only so I'll stop bothering her."

"I don't know…"

"And if that doesn't work, then I'll send her singing telegrams five times a day. Or better yet, I'll serenade her outside her window, recite a few lines from Shakespeare, a few Browning poems, maybe read her a medical journal or two…she'll come back to me. She will."

"That's all well and good, sir, but I don't think the problem is that she doubts your love for her. I think it's a whole other ballgame now."

"What are you saying, Leo?"

"I'm saying this is about trust, Mr. President. She knows you love her. I'm fairly certain everyone in these United States, the world even, knows that. Now I'm not criticizing what you did or didn't do, I'm saying that she's probably not so sure she can trust you anymore. That's the ultimate betrayal. She's going to Europe so she can search for a reason to come home."

Jed frowned, and glared at his best friend.

"When did you become such an expert on my wife?"

"Probably around the time you got married, give or take a few weeks."

"Well, you're wrong."

"Sir…"

"You're wrong, Leo."

"Fine, but I think that by going into denial about this, you're making the wrong decision."

"What do you know? You've been divorced for five years. Who are you to give me relationship advice? What happened to Jordan anyway, huh?"

"Due respect, Mr. President, but bringing up my relationship failures isn't improving yours any. At this moment, your wife is hundreds of miles away, not speaking to you. And she's about to leave the country-and she didn't even tell you about it. So who are YOU to reject my relationship advice? Looks to me like you could use all the advice you can get right now."

"Go to hell, Leo."

Leo nodded, stood, and moved to the door.

"Thank you, Mr. President."

"Get out," Jed said, exhasperatedly.

"Yes, sir."

Manchester, New Hampshire

"Zoey, make sure you pack a few sweaters. It's going to be chilly in London," Abbey said, standing in front of Zoey's bed, folding her clothes for her.

"I will," Zoey replied. "You know, Mom, I can fold my own clothes."

"Not with your arm in that sling, you can't."

"I can!"

"Zoey, sweetheart, you can't do everything. You have to let me help you."

"Fine. Mom?"

"What, hon?"

"How come Dad's not coming with us to Europe?" Zoey asked.

"You know why, Zoey."

"He could have come for a few days."

"Yeah, well, he's not," Abbey answered, bitterly.

"Dad said he hasn't spoken to you since we left Washington."

"I've been busy."

"No, you haven't. You've been making up excuses not to talk to him for over a week now. What's going on?"

"Nothing, sweetie. Don't you worry about your dad and me. We're fine," Abbey said.

"Really?"

"Sure."

"You don't fool me, you know that, right? I'm not a kid anymore," Zoey said.  
"Zoey…"

"He loves you. What else matters?"

"A lot."

"Don't you love him too?" Zoey asked, timidly.

"Of course I do, Zoey!"

"Then what's the problem!"

"You're not a kid anymore, like you've just said, so you need to listen to me when I tell you that…sometimes love just isn't enough. Okay?"

"What does that mean? What are you telling me, Mom?"

"I want you to leave this alone, Zo. This isn't about you. This is about your father and his lies. I just…I need some time. I'm hurt, I'm confused, I'm upset, and I'm tired of him making decisions without me, not including me in his life, taking me for granted…all of it. You know just as well as everyone else, that these past five years have just been one big roller coaster for our relationship. I've been doing the best I can. I gave up my privacy, my career, my life as I knew it, everything. He just doesn't seem to realize it. I know you don't understand that, honey, and I don't blame you. But you need to try and see it from where I stand. I'm not doing this to hurt anyone, I'm just trying to sort some things out. Okay?"

Zoey nodded, sadly.

"I trust you, Mom. I know you know what's best, for both of us. I'm sorry."

Abbey smiled and pulled her into a hug.

"Don't apologize, sweetheart. It's all going to be all right. Just give it time. Give it time." 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Washington, D.C

"CJ!"

"CJ!"

"CJ!"

The sound was so familiar. Walking into the press room, as she did every day, CJ Cregg walked up to the podium and put her notes down.

"Okay. Let's get started. Katie."

"What can you tell us about the First Lady's whereabouts right now?"

"As you know, Mrs. Bartlet has taken Zoey to Europe for a few weeks. I'm not 100 sure where they are at this moment, but I believe they're in France. Mark."

"Zoey Bartlet was supposed to spend the summer in France with her, what I assume to be former, boyfriend. Will she be visiting him, or his family while there?"

"No. I can't see why she would want to."

"CJ, who exactly is with them in Europe?"

"Uh…just both of their details."

"The First Lady didn't bring Amy Gardner?"

"No. Amy's here, running the East Wing. From what I know, Mrs. Bartlet is keeping in touch with her office daily. Arthur."

"Will the President be joining his wife and daughter at any point during the trip?"

"No, the President will be here in Washington until their return."

"Excuse me. I have a follow-up. Will they be returning to the White House or to New Hampshire?"

"I don't have any information on that, but I will let you know when I do. It's very possible that they'll want to stay in New Hampshire when they return. Danny."

"Should we take this trip as an indication that there is some trouble in the Bartlet marriage?"

"No. That is not why the First Lady went to Europe."

"But there's some trouble?"

"I didn't say that. I don't comment on the state of the Bartlets' marriage. I can tell you that the President wishes he could be with them and is eagerly awaiting their return. Ok, that's all for now. Thanks, everyone."

With that, she stepped down from the podium, and strode out of the press room. Danny Concannon was hot on her tail, as usual.

"CJ, I have a quote from Mrs. Bartlet before she left Washington, would you care to comment on it?" Danny asked.

CJ sighed. Abbey Bartlet + reportersstress. That was an equation she knew very well.

"What is it?"

"'I'm leaving because the events of late have all been too much. I just need a break from it all.'"

"Well, I…I'm sure she just means Zoey's abduction."

"You don't think 'it all' implies something more than that?" Danny said.

"What are you getting at, Danny? I really don't have time to…"

"I think there's something going on between the President and the First Lady."

"I told you, I don't comment on the state of the Bartlets' marriage."

"Yeah, but you know something. What is it? Why is Mrs. Bartlet angry at him?"

CJ rolled her eyes.

"Why is she ever angry at him, Danny? The First Lady is very volatile and has a tendency to lose her head. That doesn't mean their marriage is in trouble."

"So she's lost her head?"

"No," CJ replied, quietly. "Actually she hasn't."

"You think she's going to?"

"I think the First Couple's relationship is none of your business, Danny."

"Well, I think something's up. And I'm going to run the story."

"With what sources?" CJ questioned.

"I've got some."

"Who!"

"Mrs. Bartlet."

Versailles, France

Abbey and Zoey Bartlet stood in the courtyard of the palace in Versailles. Abbey had been to Versailles before, but the sight of the palace never failed to astound her. Zoey, too, was left speechless from the moment they arrived at the palace.

"Mom! I'm going to go over there and take some pictures!" Zoey called, pointing to the other side of the courtyard.

"Okay!"

Zoey scurried away with her camera, her agents trailing close behind her. Abbey walked slowly around the courtyard, admiring the scenery with awe. It had been over twenty years since she had been in Versailles, standing in the very place she now stood. Except then, she wasn't alone. Then, she had been with the only man she ever wanted to share Versailles with. And now the only men she shared it with were her agents. She fought the urge to grab her cell phone out of her purse and call him. But no. She wouldn't let this be her downfall. She was not going to give in so easily. It didn't matter how much she wanted him with her, wanted to talk to him, hold him. She missed their playful banter, she missed laughing with him, even arguing with him. But that was all done now. For awhile at least.

Zoey stood in the garden, frantically taking pictures with her digital camera left and right. When she had taken all the pictures she possibly could without being too redundant, she stepped back and took in the scenery with her eyes this time.

"Lovely, isn't it?"

Zoey nearly jumped out of her skin. She glanced back to make sure her agents were close by before she responded to the unknown, much older man with the British accent standing beside her.

"Yes, it is," she replied, calmly.

"Is this your first time in Versailles?"

"Uh…yes. First time," Zoey said, not looking at him.  
"I'm sorry, you're probably wondering who this strange British man bothering you is. I should have introduced myself. I'm Tony Prescott. Sir Anthony, if you want to be precise."

Zoey smiled and held out her hand.

"Zoey Bartlet."

He shook it, taking in her appearance and realizing exactly who she was.

"My God. I didn't recognize you, I'm sorry."

Zoey giggled.

"It's okay."

"You look splendid. I can't tell you how glad I was to find out that you were safe and sound. I was so worried for you, and for your parents."

"Thanks."

"I don't know why I'm so surprised to see you here, I heard your mother had taken you to Europe."

"Yeah, for awhile. It's a nice change."

"Well, I should say so! Must be a welcome change of pace from the hustle and bustle of Washington, D.C."

"Yeah. To tell you the truth, I'm glad to be away. It just gets overwhelming sometimes," Zoey answered.

"I understand that. Try London."

"Oh, I would LOVE to see London!"

"You wouldn't if you lived there, dear."

Zoey laughed.

"No, I guess not."

Tony glanced over to see a few members of Zoey's detail standing guard nearby.

"Secret Service?"

Zoey nodded.

"Yeah."

"A pain, aren't they?"

"I used to think so," Zoey replied. "But then…"

"Ah, right. Handy chaps to have around, eh?"

She laughed.

"Yeah."

"Your mother's here with you?" Tony questioned.

"Uh…yeah," Zoey said, turning and looking around. "She's around here somewhere. Just look for the tiny woman in hooker boots swarmed by agents- that's Mom."

Tony grinned at her.

"Perhaps I'll go scope her out. I'd love to meet her."

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. Oh! There she is," Zoey said, motioning toward the crowd of agents moving towards them.

"Where?" Tony asked.

He laughed as he squinted, trying to find her consumed by the men and women in black.

"Somewhere in there." She waved them over. "Mom!"

The agents stopped moving and Abbey stepped out from behind them. She was indeed wearing her favorite, oft-worn hooker boots, along with light blue tank top and a tan, knee-length skirt. She lifted her sunglasses up onto her head, trying to make out the figure standing beside her daughter. He looked somewhat familiar, but his name escaped her. But one thing was certain about him-he was mesmerized by her. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Versailles, France

"Who's your friend, Zoey?" Abbey Bartlet asked.

"Mom, this is Sir Anthony Prescott. Sir Prescott, this is my mother, Abigail Bartlet," Zoey said.

"It's pleasure to meet you, Sir Prescott."

She held her hand out.

"Tony, please. And the pleasure's all mine, Mrs. Bartlet," he replied, taking her hand and kissing it.

She giggled.

"Oh, how I adore English men…"

"I'm sure they reciprocate the feeling."

"Well, I can think of one in particular…" Abbey said, laughing.

"Really," Tony said.

He placed his hand on her elbow and slowly lead her in the opposite direction as they spoke. Zoey laughed and rolled her eyes, then took out her camera again and began clicking away.

"Who might that be?" Tony asked.

"Do you know Lord Marbury?"

"John? Of course. The old dog. He's a good friend of mine."

"He's incorrigible," Abbey said.

"Well, that's the truth if I ever heard it. Puts the moves on you, does he?"

"He does. He likes to compliment my 'magnificent'…attributes."

"Oh?" Tony replied, one eyebrow raised. "Well, all due respect, Mrs. Bartlet, but…I can certainly see why."

Abbey blushed.

"It's Abbey."

"Abbey. Would you care to go for a little stroll?"

"Uh…" Abbey looked over her shoulder at Zoey, who seemed quite content to be on her own exploring the area. "Sure. I don't see why not."

"Excellent."

"So…Sir Prescott, what brings you to Versailles? Business or pleasure?"

"A little of both, I'd say. I'm doing business in Paris, but I couldn't leave the country without visiting Versailles."

"I'm the same way. We're staying in Paris, but I had to come here. And I wanted Zoey to experience it as well."

"You've been to Versailles before?"

"A couple of times, actually. My husband loves it too."

"Speaking of your husband, where might he be?" Tony questioned.

"Oh, he's…back at the White House."

"Why on earth is he at the White House when he could be experiencing the beauty of Versailles with two lovely ladies, whose beauty outshines that of the city they are in?"

"You certainly have a way with words, Sir Prescott."

"Tony."

"Right. Tony."

Washington, D.C.

"Debbie!" Jed called, from inside the Oval Office.

Within seconds, his secretary appeared in the doorway.

"Yes, sir?"

"Get Zoey on the phone for me please."

"Her cell phone?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, sir," Debbie said, heading back to her desk.

Jed took off his glasses and waited for the call to be put through.

"Mr. President, line two!" Debbie shouted.

"Thank you!"

He hit the Line 2 button and picked up the phone.

"Hiya, sweetheart."

"Hi, Daddy."

"Where are you right now? Wait, no. Let me guess. The Champs Elysees."

"Nope."

"The Eiffel Tower?"

"Nope."

"Notre Dame?" He asked, hopefully.

She laughed.

"No, Dad."

"I give up. Where?"

"We're in Versailles. At the palace."

Jed paused, immediating remembering when he and Abbey had vacationed in France and gone to that exact spot.

"Dad?"

"I'm here, honey."

"Okay. Are you all right?" Zoey asked, with concern.

"I'm fine. Are you having fun?"

"Oh my God, Dad, it's amazing. Everything's so beautiful here. It's breathtaking."

"That's how I remember it. How's Mom?"

"She's…she's good, Dad."

"Is she enjoying herself?"

"She is, yeah," Zoey replied.

"Zoey, would you ask her…"

"If she'll talk to you? Yeah. Hold on a sec."

"Thanks, hon."

Versailles, France

"Mom!" Zoey shouted to her mother, who was standing a few yards away talking with Sir Prescott.

"Mom, Dad's on the phone…"

Abbey immediately shook her head.

"No, Zoey."

"Mom, come on! Please?"

"Absolutely not."

Zoey sighed, and put the cell phone back to her ear.

"Dad, I…"

"Yeah, I heard. It's ok. Thanks for trying, sweetheart."

"You're welcome. I'm really sorry."

"No, no. It's not your fault, baby. Just…tell her I miss her, will you, please?"

"Sure, Dad."

"Thank you. Call me later."

"I will."

"I love you."

"Love you too."

Zoey flipped the phone shut and put it back into her purse. Then, she continued walking through the gardens while her mother walked close to the palace, with Sir Prescott.

"So. Where's this European tour of yours bringing you after France?" Tony asked.

"Oh, um, Spain, Greece, Italy, maybe Switzerland for a little skiiing, if Zoey's arm is healed. Then we'll top it off with two weeks in London," Abbey replied.

"Ah, my homeland. I think John Marbury and I should join forces and throw you a grand soiree."

Abbey laughed.

"No need for that. That's exactly what I'm running from."

Tony looked at her seriously.

"What's that?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from. Forget I said anything."

"I didn't realize you were running from something," Tony said.

"No…I'm not really. I just…well, parties aren't my thing."

"It won't be like in Washington, Abbey. You won't have to impress anyone. No pressure, as they say in America."

"That's what you think. I'm the First Lady of the United States. There's always someone to impress. If my hair doesn't look right, if my dress isn't the latest fashion, and if I don't smile every second of every day, I get berated by my husband's staff. My picture is in at least five different magazines each week, my detail is constantly fighting off paparazzi, and if, by chance, I happen to let something slip that I shouldn't have…it's all over the papers and I can't escape it. I can't go to the movies without some magazine criticizing what I saw, or some Christian organization blasting my husband because I saw a film with a swear word in it. I live in a fishbowl. So, yes, there will be someone to impress. Technically, I should be trying to impress you right now. Looks like I've ruined that one anyway."

Tony stared at her, astonished. He had never met anyone like Abbey Bartlet before.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I have a tendency to just…go off on a tangent….ranting and raving. You didn't need to hear any of that, I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't apologize, Abbey. It's fascinating."

"What?" Abbey asked, surprised.

"I find you…absolutely fascinating."

Abbey's gaze immediately fell down to the floor. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten a compliment like that from a man who wasn't Lord John Marbury. Jed certainly hadn't spoken to her like that in awhile. Not for months. And when he did, it was always momentary, fleeting, and usually because he wanted a little action. It wasn't always that way. It was just since he'd become the leader of the free world…

"You're very kind, Tony."

"And you're very beautiful."

Abbey felt a chill run down her spine. She hadn't felt like this, so nervous, flustered, and so…special, since the day she met Jed Bartlet. But it had been months since he had made her feel special. Hell, it had been months since he'd given her the time of day. Hearing another man speak to her so warmly and so affectionately only made her feel worse when she thought about her husband. She remembered a time when he would tell her every single day how beautiful she was. He would tell her every single day how much he loved her. Now he had shut her out, lied to her, and taken her for granted. The thought overwhelmed her.

And with that, she began to cry.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Washington, D.C.

"Leo," Margaret said, stepping into the Chief of Staff's office.

He looked up.

"CJ needs to see you."

"Send her in."

She nodded, and was soon replaced by CJ Cregg standing in the doorway.

"What's up?" Leo asked, looking down at the papers on his desk and not at her.

"We have a problem."

Slowly, he glanced up and noticed the worried look on her face.

"What is it?"

"It's the First Lady."

"Oh, jeez. Should we have the President in on this?"

"He's going to find out sooner or later," CJ replied.

"How bad is it?" Leo asked, standing up.

"It's bad."

"Something happen in Europe?"

CJ shook her head, and followed Leo into the Oval Office.

"Mr. President."

They found him sitting at his desk, going over some paperwork. He looked up when they entered the room.

"This is a light day, guys. If you came in here to tell that that Qumar's bombed Israel or one of our guys is missing in North Korea, get out."

"Sir, CJ has something she needs to tell us."

"Yeah, what?"

"It's about the First Lady."

"Oh, God. What'd she do?" Jed questioned.

"Mr. President…I don't know how to say this really," CJ said.

"Say it. After thirty-seven years, nothing she can do could ever surprise me."

"I think…this will, sir."

"What is it, CJ?"

"Well, um…before Mrs. Bartlet left Washington, she apparently…spoke to Danny Concannon."

"Yeah. She knows him, he wrote her biography, and she respects him. What of it?"

"He's…using some of the quotes in an article, being published tomorrow morning."

"What did she say to him?"

CJ hesitated before reading off the piece of paper Danny handed her, as a favor to her.

"'My husband I are trying it apart for a little while. Only he doesn't know that yet.' And then there's, 'The President seems to be under the impression that he can successfully run the country and our marriage at the same time, within his own terms. And, well, the President's about to get a rude awakening.'"

Leo's jaw dropped. He knew Abbey Bartlet was never one to sugar coat things for the benefit of the press, but this was just too much. She was angry and hurt, yes, but she had gone too far. Not only had she upset the President now, she was going to upset the public too.  
"Mr. President?" CJ said, when Jed didn't say anything.

His face was turning red, and his fists began to clench together.

'Oh, no,' Leo thought. 'I knew it was either going to be sadness or anger…apparently it's anger.'

"Debbie!" Jed shouted.

Debbie appeared in the doorway.

"Get my wife on the phone!"

"Sir, you know that she…"

"I don't care if she wants to talk to me or not! Get her on the phone. Now!"

Paris, France

After Abbey's sudden outburst of tears, Zoey rushed over, without asking questions, and whisked her away from Sir Anthony Prescott, who was left absolutely stunned. They took the train back to Paris and returned to the hotel as quickly as possible. Zoey sat with her on one of the beds and held her while she continued to cry.

"Mom…please tell me what's wrong. I've been quiet for the last hour, but now…you have to tell me."

Abbey wipe the tears off her cheek with the back of her hand.

"I'm fine."

"Mom! You're not fine, you've been crying for an hour straight. Tell me what's going on."

"Hormones, darling," Abbey said, with a fake smile. "Menopause?"

Zoey rolled her eyes.

"That's not it, and you know it. Tell me."

Abbey shook her head.

"It's Dad, isn't it?"

"It's me. And it's him. It's us."

"Look…if you don't want to talk to me about this, I understand. I mean, maybe it's not something I should know about it, and that's cool. But will you at least let me get Millie on the phone? Or Jenny?"

"No, no. It's fine. They don't need to be bothered with this."

"They're your best friends, Mom."

"No. Millie's got a lot going on right now and Jenny's busy planning her wedding. I'll be fine."

Zoey was about to make her protests known, when the phone rang. Zoey leaned over to the nightstand and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Zoey, it's Debbie."

"Hi, Debbie. Does my dad want to talk to me?"

"No. Actually…the President would like to speak to your mother."

"Oh, no. You know she won't, Debbie."

"I know, and I tried to tell him that but he's adament."

"Why? What's going on? Dad would never force her to talk to him unless.."

"I don't know what's happened, but something has. He's in the Oval shouting so loud I think the walls are vibrating."

"What? Why!"

"I don't know. But he ordered me to get your mother on the phone and I really don't want to be the one to tell him she refuses."

Zoey sighed.

"Okay, put him through. I'll tell him."

"Thank you."

"Yeah."

Zoey waited a moment, glancing at her mother sympathetically, as Debbie put the call through to the Oval Office.

"Abbey…"

"No, Dad, it's me."

"Zoey, put Mom on the phone. Now."

"Dad, you know she doesn't want to talk to you. What's going on?"

"Put her on the phone, Zoey," Jed said, sternly.

"I'm not going to make her do something she doesn't want to do."

"I swear to God, Zoey Patricia, if you don't put your mother on the phone I'm going to…"

"Hold on."

Zoey placed her hand over the phone and spoke to her mother.

"Mom…it's Dad."

"I can hear him. What's going on?"

"I don't know. He wants to talk to you and…he won't take no for an answer," Zoey explained.

"Oh, really. Give it to me," Abbey said, sitting up.

Zoey reluctantly handed her the phone.

"What exactly were you going to do if she didn't put me on the phone, Jed? Send in the National Guard to get us? Oh, or maybe you were going to assasinate the president of France and then not tell me about it?"

Her words cut deep into him, but he didn't let that throw him off. He was too focused now.

"What the hell were you thinking, Abbey!" Jed shouted.

He wanted to tell her how good it was to hear her voice again, even if she was scolding him. It was still her voice, and that was enough.

"What?"

"Now, I always knew you weren't exactly tight-lipped around members of the press, but this is really too much."

"What are you talking about?"

"I am talking about Danny Concannon. I am talking about 'My husband I are trying it apart for a little while. Only he doesn't know that yet.' What the hell were you thinking!"

"What's bothering you the most about this? What I said or who I said it to?"

"Goddamnit, Abbey! 'The President seems to be under the impression that he can successfully run the country and our marriage at the same time, within his own terms.' What the hell is that? How could you say something like that to a reporter!"

Abbey sighed, her eyes filling with tears yet again.

"You're doing it right now," she whispered.

He paused, actually hearing the tears in her voice.

"What?"

"Trying to run the country and our marriage, under your own terms."

"Abbey…"

"Are you through yelling at me now?"

He sighed.

"Yeah," Jed replied, softly.

"Good. Talk to your daughter."

Abbey forced the phone into her daughter's hand, without another word to her husband.

"Dad?"

"Hi, sweetheart."

"You shouldn't have called," Zoey said, sadly.

"I know. I was angry. I'm sorry."

"Don't tell me that. Tell her."

"I would if she'd talk to me."

"I don't blame her for not wanting to. You treated her like a member of your staff just now. She doesn't work for you, Dad. You can't just hire and fire her and dispose of her as you please. Don't you get that!"

"Zoey, what are you…"

"You know, at first, I was on your side. I thought Mom was overreacting. But being here with her these last few days has made me see the truth. She's right. And she deserves someone who will be honest with her, and cherish her. You don't do that anymore."

"You don't know what you're saying, Zoey, so stop now before you say something you'll regret," Jed warned.

"You better get your act together, Dad. You know I love you, and I'd do anything for you. But I'm the one who had to suffer because of your actions. And now Mom's suffering too. You didn't see her today. You didn't hold her while she cried."

"I wish I could have," he whispered.

"Well, you didn't. And you're the reason she's crying in the first place."

"I know."

"Then what are you gonna do about it?"

-Zoey's POV-

I really never thought I would see the day when my parents wouldn't speak to each other. Even when they're fighting, they can't keep themselves from talking. They've been that way ever since I can remember. I don't want to take sides, I really don't. But it's so hard when my mother is sitting here crying, and my dad is on the phone screaming. It just makes her seem like the victim. And from what I know, she is.

I can't help feeling like all of this is my fault. Deep down, I know it's not, but the guilt I feel is just so strong sometimes. I've spent my entire life admiring my parents' marriage, envying it. If you had told me fifteen years ago that this was going to happen, I would never have believed you. Their relationship was one of few constant things in my life. Knowing that I could always count on them to be there for me, and to be there for each other. And now I don't know.

I feel like I should call my sisters. I don't think they have any idea about what's happening. But I wouldn't know how to tell them. I don't even know how to describe the situation. Mom and Dad are having some trouble? No. Mom and Dad aren't speaking to each other? No, they spoke. It was just…very inauspicious, to say the least. Liz and Ellie both understood that things would be weird between Mom and Dad for awhile, after the Shareef thing, but they couldn't have known just how bad it had become. Oh, how I wish they were here. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Washington, D.C.

CJ Cregg was already late for her senior staff meeting. She was finally about to get out the door, when the piercing sound of the phone ringing penetrated the air. She reluctantly returned to her desk and picked up the phone.

"CJ Cregg."

"'The First Lady is very volatile and has a tendency to lose her head'? That's very good, CJ."

CJ's eyes widened.

"Mrs. Bartlet!"

"I mean it, that's a good line. I may use it some time."

"Ma'am, I am so…"

"Sorry? No. Don't apologize."

"I didn't mean to insult you in any way. Danny Concannon was just…"

"CJ, I said don't apologize."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Look, I just wanted to tell you that I'm…sorry about Danny thing."

"Ma'am?"

"I put you in a very difficult spot, having to tell the President, and I'm sorry. I hadn't planned on it happening that way."

"Due respect, Mrs. Bartlet, but…when you tell a reporter that you're giving your marriage a rest, what way did you expect it to happen?"

"Touché. I guess I…didn't have a plan at all. I spoke without thinking, and I shouldn't have. I admit that. But let's keep it just between us, hmm?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Also, Zoey and I are skipping Greece and Spain."

"Does that mean your coming home?"

Abbey laughed.

"No. We're just going to be spending more time in London than we thought."

Manchester, New Hampshire

Elizabeth Bartlet Westin stood in front of the sink of her kitchen, washing the dishes from lunch. She had asked Annie to do it, but she had shirked her duties as always and ran out the door before Elizabeth had a chance to chide her. She was counting the days until Gus was tall enough to reach the sink. But by that time, Annie probably would have clued him in on how to successfully shirk his duties as well. The truth was, Liz didn't much blame them. She had been the exact same way when she was a kid.

Nevertheless, she couldn't have been more grateful when the phone suddenly rang. She grabbed a towel and dried off her hands before answering it.

"Hello?"

"Liz, it's me."

"Hey, Zoey! What's up? Where are you?" Liz questioned.

"We're in Paris."

"Oh, God, Paris. You have no idea how much I envy you right now. I'm standing here doing the dishes while my kids are somewhere slacking off."

"Where's Doug?"

"It's 1 o'clock here, Zo. He's at work."

"Oh, yeah. Listen…I have to talk to you about something," Zoey said.

"Uh oh. What is it?"

Liz heard her sister's sharp intake of breath and instantly feared for the worst. When she heard quiet sobbing from the other end of the line, the fear only got stronger.

"Zoey, what's going on!"

"I think Mom and Dad are gonna split up," Zoey stated, quietly, swallowing back tears.

"What? Hon, I can't understand you. What are you saying?"

"I think Mom and Dad are gonna split up!"

Elizabeth laughed.

"Very funny. Really. What's going on?"

"I'm serious, Liz."

"No, you're not. You can't be. What makes you say that!" Liz demanded, panicking.

"Well, for starters, they're not speaking."

"Still?"

"Actually they spoke like a week ago…Dad was yelling at her about that Danny Concannon article."

"Yeah, I read that. I figured it was just gossip. But then I remembered Danny doesn't write gossip, so I got a little worried. But when I didn't hear anything about it from you, I brushed it off immediately," Liz explained. "Did Mom really say all of that?"

"Yes. That's why Dad was so angry. Oh, my God, Liz, it was horrible. The first time they'd spoken in weeks was…like that. Dad screaming, Mom crying. I've never seen them like this. Ever. I'm scared."

"They'll overcome it, Zo. They've been married thirty-seven years. I don't think either of them is about to throw that all away."

"Don't be so sure."

"Why?"

"Because now there's someone else."

Florence, Italy

"Mom? Are you almost ready to go?" Zoey called, poking her head into the hotel room.

"Yeah, just about," Abbey replied, throwing a few last items into her suitcase.

"Did you talk to CJ?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Ok. Are you sure you really want to skip Greece and Spain?"

"We'll be back another time, Zoey. I just want to spend some extra time in London."

"A whole month?"

"Yeah! It'll be like old times. I spent over five years of my life in London, Zo. I miss it sometimes."

"Really," Zoey said, skeptically. "So that's why you want to spend so much time in London?"

"Yeah," Abbey replied, matter-of-factly.

"And it wouldn't be because of Tony?"

"What? No!"

"Mom, come on. You've spent nearly all our time in Italy on the phone with him. What am I supposed to think?"

"There is nothing going on, Zoey," Abbey said, adamently.

"Then why is it you'll spend all day talking with Tony and won't even exchange two words with Dad?"

"I'm not going to do this with you."

"I'm sorry, ok! I'm weirded out by all of this. I don't know what to think."

"I know it's hard for you, sweetie. But it's hard for me too."

"What's hard? What exactly is happening here?" Zoey questioned.

"I don't know," Abbey said, softly.

"Are you going to cheat on Dad?"

"Zoey Patricia!"

"What! It's a fair question right now, and you know it."

"No. I'm not going to cheat on my husband. You know me better than that."

"Do I?"

"Yes!"

Zoey lifted her hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay. Fine. But I just want you to keep something in mind."

"What?"

"Just remember how you would feel if Dad cheated on YOU."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Washington, D.C.

"Excuse me, Mr. President," Debbie said, peeking her head into the Oval Office.

Jed barely looked up from his desk as he spoke.

"Yeah."

"Your daughters are here."

That got his attention.

"What?"

"Ellie and Elizabeth…they're here."

"As in…here? Now?" Jed asked.

"Yes, sir. Would you like me to send them in?"

"Yeah, send 'em in."

He put some of his papers aside, took off his glasses, and stood to greet his two older daughters when they entered the room.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise."

Ellie smiled sadly and Elizabeth looked down at her shoes.

"Or maybe a…not-so-pleasant surprise?" Jed said, nervously.

He walked over and hugged both of them. Then, Jed sat down in his usual chair, while the girls sat on one of the couches.

"Should I assume that coming all the way from New Hampshire means bad news, Elizabeth?"

"That would be a fair assumption, yes."

"And you, Eleanor?"

"I didn't think Liz should have to talk to you about this alone," Ellie said.

"About what?"

"Listen, Dad…we know things haven't been so great between you and Mom lately," Liz said.

"Oh, this is about her. Should I be scared?"

"Dad, be serious, and let Liz talk," Ellie said.

"All right."

"Zoey called me. She's worried. She says you two aren't speaking."

"Is this an intervention?" Jed questioned.

"If that's what you want to call it, yes," Liz answered.

"Well, you're wasting your time."

"What?" Ellie asked, worriedly.

"Your mother and I have to work this out on our own," Jed said.

"Yeah, but, Dad…it's been over a month now. And you haven't done anything. Do you think she's just going to change her mind and come back to you? Because she's not!" Liz exclaimed.

"Then what am I supposed to do, huh? You're so smart. Tell me what to do."

"I don't know…just something. You can't just sit here and expect her to come to you. Especially not after your last phone conversation. Yeah, Zoey told me all about it. She said you acted like a jackass and made her cry."

Jed shook his head.

"She was already crying."

"And that makes it better? You're her husband. You're supposed to be the one who dries her tears, not the one who causes them!" Liz shouted.

"Liz," Ellie said. "Let's just talk about this rationally, okay?"

Elizabeth sighed.

"Look, Dad…if you don't do something, you're gonna lose her. And I'm fairly certain that's not what you want. Am I right?"

He nodded.

"Of course I don't want to lose her. That's the last thing I'd ever want. But I don't know how to reach her, literally and emotionally," Jed admitted.

"Well, a grand gesture never hurt anybody…"

London, England

"Zoey!" Abbey shouted, poking her head into the connecting hotel room.

Zoey Bartlet was sitting on her bed, remote in hand, checking out the channels on her television.

"England sucks," Zoey said.

"Why, because they don't get MTV?" Abbey said, sarcastically.

Zoey rolled her eyes.

"I don't watch MTV. But it's like…all British stations."

"They've got some funny shows, Zo. And anyway, you shouldn't be in here watching television. Go for a walk or something."

"That's ok. I'm just gonna order room service and hang out till you get back," Zoey replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. When are you leaving?"

"In a few minutes."

Abbey turned and went back into her own room, and Zoey followed her.  
"You're wearing that dress?" Zoey asked.

"Yeah. You don't like it?"

"No, I love it. But you don't think it's a bit too…'little black dress' for a first date?"

Abbey paused, staring at her daughter for a moment.

"It is not a date, Zoey."

"Whatever, you know what I mean."

"We're just having drinks"  
Zoey rolled her eyes.

"Is he so cheap he can't even take you out to dinner?"

"Zoey, he's an aristocrat. I really don't think he's short on cash," Abbey replied.

Abbey walked over and sat in front of the vanity to put the finishing touches on her makeup.

"You know, Mom, Tony's a nice guy. So don't go all heartbreaker on him, okay?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know. I mean…what if he really falls for you? What are you going to do then?" Zoey asked.

"I'm not gonna think about that now, Zoey. We're having drinks. It's all very casual and innocent. No strings attached. We're friends."

"And then when he falls head over heels in love with you? What then?"

"Who the hell said he's gonna fall head over heels in love with me!" Abbey replied.

"Because they all do."

"What?"

"Come on, don't act like you don't realize the affect you have on men. I don't know what it is, but you've got it. It used to bother me when I was younger," Zoey admitted.

"Oh, please," Abbey laughed.

"I'm serious! You've got some kind of…freakish, alluring charm. And you're hot." Zoey shrugged. "That's just the way it goes."

"I'm not…'hot,'" Abbey argued.

"Yeah, you are. You're hot, and you know it. You've had Dad whipped for the last thirty-some years, as much as it grosses me out to think about that. You know how to flaunt it…sometimes I don't think you even mean to do it. It doesn't bother me really anymore. I've come to the conclusion that it's ok, because you've passed those genes down to me. So, essentially, I benefited."

"Ok. I'm leaving now. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"I was complimenting you!" Zoey said.

"No, you weren't."

Abbey walked over to the bed and grabbed her purse, then gave Zoey a kiss on the cheek.

"I love you."

"Love you too," Zoey replied.

"I'll see you later."

"Have fun."

"Do you mean that, or are you just being sarcastic?"

Zoey smiled reassuringly.

"I meant that."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

London, England

Abbey Bartlet tried to act casual as she strolled into a swanky London bar/restaurant, but the Secret Service agents trailing behind her made it very difficult, to say the least. She had expected heads to turn from every direction when she walked in. Since becoming First Lady of the United States, she had become used to it. People recognized her whereever she went. However, that didn't seem to be the case in England. While at first the lack of attention that was paid to her surprised Abbey, she quickly found herself at ease. As she continued through the restaurant, she was relieved when a few heads turned to observe her-heads that belonged to males. It was nice to know that they weren't staring at her because of her status, but they were staring at her because of her appearance. It was thrilling.

Not only that, but it was nice to be at a quiet, yet classy little restaurant. Since becoming President, Jed had rarely taken her out. Mostly because he didn't have time, but sometimes because of Secret Service regulations and complications. Now, strutting her stuff in an elegant little club in the heart of London, Abbey felt a bit like those promiscuous girls on 'Sex and the City.' She had watched the show a few times. That was where she got a lot of her fashion tips, which she had certainly put to good use that night especially. She was wearing a little black halter dress with a plunging neckline that tied at the back of the neck.

Her agents walked a few feet behind her as she scanned the bar for Sir Anthony Prescott. She found him sitting at the end, nursing a scotch. She took a deep breath, smiled to reassure herself, and pushed onward.

"Tony?"

He looked up and his jaw dropped slightly at sight of her.

"Abbey!"

Tony stood and gestured for her to sit down in the chair beside his.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to show," Tony said.

"Well, the Service is always on edge when we're in foreign countries. They wanted to check everything out first."

"And is this to their satisfaction?"

"I believe it is!"

"I wanted to pick something out of the way. I didn't think you'd want to be recognized."

"Good call," Abbey replied, grinning. "I don't think anyone's recognized me yet."

"Where are your agents?"

"They're lurking in the shadows nearby, I'm sure."

"Yes. So, can I order you a drink?"

"Oh, um, how about a…vodka martini?" Abbey said.

"Dry?"

"Yes. Thank you."

Tony called the bartender over and placed Abbey's order for her. The bartender stared at Abbey for a fleeting moment, trying to figure out where he had seen her before. Then he shrugged it off, assuming she was just another regular.

"You look ravishing, by the way," Tony observed. "That dress is stunning."

Abbey blushed.

"Thank you. I just picked it up today."

"For me?" Tony asked, wryly.

"No," Abbey answered, quickly. "Zoey and I went on a little shopping spree at Harrod's and…"

"Ah, I see. Well, it's stunning anyway."

"Thanks."

"You know, I can't tell you how glad I was that you agreed to meet me. Because, really, just hearing your voice over the phone doesn't do you justice."

"Oh. Well, I was glad to. It's nice to go out. The only places I ever get to go are state dinners and other pre-approved gatherings of various world-reknowned political minds or Nobel Laureates. And believe me, it gets tedious after awhile," Abbey said.

"I know exactly what you mean. For me, it's garden parties at Buckingham Palace and assorted galas…and it most certainly is tedious. Although I don't live in quite the fishbowl you do. I can't imagine what that must be like."

Abbey laughed quietly.

"Well. It's no walk in the park, I'll tell you that."

He nodded.

"Abbey."

"Hmm?"

"Do you mind if we cut the small talk?" Tony asked.

"Small talk?"

"That's all we've ever done on the phone. I think we're past that now, don't you?"

"Okay…well, what do you want to talk about then?"

"Anything you like."

"Well. What about your wife? You mentioned that you were divorced," Abbey said.

"Oh. Yes. My wife, former wife that is, was also from a prominent English family. We were arranged because of it," Tony said.

"Oh, wow. An arranged marriage. I didn't think people did that anymore."

"I don't think either of us minded at the time, to be honest. We were young and only interested in moving up in the world. Elizabeth was only interested in bettering her social status, and I was completely focused on my career.

Abbey smiled.

"Elizabeth. That's my eldest daughter's name."

"Oh, yes. That's right. How old is she now?"

"She's thirty-two."

"You have grandchildren, yes?" Tony questioned.

"Mmm-hmm. Two. Annie is almost fifteen, and Gus is five."

"How about your middle child? You have three children, don't you?"

"Yes. Ellie. She's just turned twenty-eight. She recently got her medical degree from Johns Hopkins, and she went to undergraduate school at Yale," Abbey said.

There were few things she enjoyed more than boasting the accomplishments of her three daughters.

"That's very impressive."

"We're incredibly proud of her."

"And Zoey's just graduated from Georgetown?"

"Yeah, pre-law. I think she's going to start at Harvard Law next fall."

"Also impressive. What about Elizabeth? Did she go to college?"

"Oh, yes. She has a B.A. in English and a masters in American History, both from Dartmouth."

"Three Ivy Leaguers, hmm?"

"Those are my girls! What about your children? You haven't told me a thing about them," Abbey pointed out.

"Daphne and Oliver."

"How very…British," Abbey giggled.

"Well, naturally. It comes with the territory." He winked at her.

"So tell me about them."

"Well, Daphne is twenty-five. She's a graduate of Leeds University, and she studied biochemistry. Though she hasn't exactly done anything with her degree yet. She's actually just gotten married and seems to have no interest in working, or doing anything at all really. Takes after her mother," Tony stated, bitterly.

"Hmm. Well, what about Oliver?"

"Oliver recently graduated from Oxford with a degree in sociology. He's just turned twenty-two."

"Ironic, Zoey will be twenty-two in December."

"We should get those two together!"

"I'm sure it'd be interesting, to say the least," Abbey said.

"Another martini?"

"Sure."

Washington, D.C.

"Leo, I have to do something."

The President was pacing around the living room of the Residence restlessly. He hadn't been able to focus on his work since Ellie and Liz had paid him a little visit. Normally, they would have stayed the night at the White House. But instead, they went back to Baltimore and Liz stayed with Ellie for the night. At first, Jed was insulted by this. Then he realized it was for the best. He needed to think. They had done their part.

Leo McGarry sat on the couch, watching his best friend stride back and forth in front of him.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I don't know. But Liz and Ellie were right. She's not just gonna change her mind and come back to me. I have to make a grand gesture of some sort," Jed said.

"Like what?"

"That's where you come in."

"The last time I planned a grand gesture, my wife left me. I don't think you want my advice on this one."

"Well, you were five votes down," Jed said, mocking what Leo's excuse had been five years earlier when Jenny had left him.

"Thank you for that, sir."

"I think I should go to London."

Leo shook his head.

"We don't have time for that, sir."

"Make time, Leo. I want to go to London."

"And then what? You're in London. What do you do?"

"I, um…damnit, I don't know! I get down on my hands and knees and beg her to take me back! I don't care. Whatever it takes. I just need a day, Leo. Give me a day."

Leo reluctantly gave in.

"Ok. But we're not gonna be able to go this for at least two more weeks."

"They're still in London then, aren't they?"

"I believe so."

"Okay, good. Two more weeks 'till I have my wife back."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

London, England

When Sir Anthony Prescott returned to his luxury penthouse that evening, he was surprised to find himself graced with the company of his son. Oliver Prescott sat in the living room, flipping through the television channels unenthusastically. When he heard the front door open, his ears perked up, anticipating the sight of his father. Tony strolled into the living room and stood in the doorway.

"Why, Oliver. How nice of you to drop by."

"Now, Dad, let's not be cruel."

Tony walked over and plopped down on the couch beside him.

"So. What brings you here, Ollie?"

"I was bored, and I decided to pay a visit to dear old Dad."

Tony stared at him in disbelief.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my son!"

"I wanted to visit my father. Let's not make a talk show out of it, okay?"

"Rachel threw you out again, didn't she?" Tony speculated.

"No, Rachel did not throw me out again!"

"Really."

"Okay, Rachel threw me out. But it was mostly reciprocal this time," Oliver explained.

"Mostly?"

"I would have left eventually. Maybe just not…quite so soon. That's all. Anyway, enough about me. Where have you been all evening, Casanova?"

"I'm really not a liberty to say," Tony replied, haughtily.

"You're really not as funny as you think you are, Dad."

"That's not what the First Lady of the United States told me this evening."

Oliver paused, slowly comprehending what his father had just said.

"What…did you say?"

Tony chuckled.

"It so happens that the First Lady of the good ole U.S. of A. thinks I'm quite the comedian."

"Dad, you weren't…"

"Out with Abigail Bartlet tonight? Yes, as a matter of fact, I was."

"You're kidding! How in God's name did you swing that?" Oliver questioned.

"We met in a Versailles a few weeks ago. Didn't I tell you?"

"No! I'm sure I would have remembered you telling me something like that. I don't believe this! One moment, hold on. It wasn't a…date, was it?"

"That's a good question. I should have asked."

"What do you mean?"

"I have absolutely no idea whether or not it was a date," Tony replied, honestly.

"This may sound like a ridiculous question, but isn't she…married?"

"They don't call her First Lady for nothing, Ollie."

"Then it couldn't have been a date. Right?"

Oliver shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't sure he was at ease with this situation.

"I don't know. There were moments when it seemed like one."

"My God. I don't believe this. You took out Abbey Bartlet tonight, and you have no idea what it means. Has she left the President? Because I haven't read anything about it, and I'm sure I would have."

"I don't know, to be honest," Tony answered.

"You don't know? She didn't mention him to you at all?"

"Hardly."

"I…I'm flabbergasted by this. What is she doing in London anyway?" Oliver inquired.

"She's here with her daughter."

"Which one? The one who was kidnapped?"

Tony nodded.

"Zoey."

"Just the two of them?"

"Yes."

"Well. You know what my next question is, don't you?" Oliver said.

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

"What are you doing, Dad? What are you trying to do?"

"I am trying to enjoy my life a bit, Oliver, is that all right with you?"

"That's not what I'm asking. I want to know what you think is going to happen with this relationship."

Tony stopped to ruminate a moment before speaking.

"I really like her, Ol."

Oliver frowned worriedly.

"Oh, God. Really?"

"Yes," Tony replied, honestly.

"Ok. Well, let me ask you this. Suppose she starts something up with you, and you fall for her completely, and then she decides to go back to her husband. He's the President of the United States, for God's sake. What do you do then?"

Tony shrugged.

"We're not there yet, Oliver. We'll cross that bridge when and if we come to it."

"So you're planning to persue this woman?" Oliver questioned.

"She is not 'this woman.' She's the First Lady of the U.S.!"

"You know Daphne's going to throw a fit if you persue her."

"Daphne would throw a fit if I persued anyone! Like mother, like daughter."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Dad."

"I hope so too."

Baltimore, Maryland

"So. How's Mark?" Elizabeth asked.

Ellie rolled her eyes.

"I don't want to talk about Mark, Liz. There's a more important issue at hand."

"Right. Ok. Well. Zoey said there was someone else," Liz said, settling herself on her sister's couch.

"What?"

Ellie sat down beside her.

"Well, she said nothing was set in stone yet, obviously. But…Mom's met someone."

"You mean another guy?" Ellie asked.

Liz nodded.

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. Zoey said he's like…a Lord or something. A knight, or a duke. Something British," Liz continued.

"I don't understand. Mom's seeing another guy?"

"No! Well, not yet, I don't think."

"This doesn't make any sense. Mom would never…"

Before Ellie could finish her sentence, the phone rang. She leaned over to the end table and picked up the cordless.

"Hello?"

"El, it's me."

"Zoey, hold on. Liz's here. I'm gonna put you on speaker."

Ellie placed the phone back down on the charger and hit the 'speaker' button.

"Okay."

"Hi, Zoey," Liz said.

"Hey, Liz."

"So what's going on?" Ellie asked.

"Mom just got home. She was…out with the guy I was telling you about, Liz."

Liz laughed.

"Who, Nobility Man?"

"Yeah. Sir Anthony Prescott."

"Ooh, fancy," Liz commented.

"What happened, Zoey?" Ellie asked.

"She…had a good time," Zoey replied. "She had a good time, and I'm scared."

"Oh, come on, Zo, you don't really think something's going to happen, do you?" Elizabeth questioned.

"I don't know. I haven't seen her this happy since before…before…"

"Yeah," Ellie said. "I don't know. Maybe she just needed a little reassurance."

"Reassurance?" Liz said.

"You know. Testing to see if she could still get a guy. That kind of thing."

"I don't know, El."

"Well, did she mention seeing him again?"

"No. Unless you count the party, I guess," Zoey answered.

"What party?" Liz said.

"Oh. Tony and Lord Marbury are throwing us a party in a few days."

"Why?" Ellie wondered.

"I don't know. Because they want to? They're extravagent British aristocrats. That's what they do."

"Well, make sure you call us after the party. Let us know what's going on," Liz suggested.

"I will." 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Washington, D.C.

"I'm thinking roses, Leo. What about you?" Jed asked.

The President was pacing back and forth in the Oval Office, trying to decide what to send to his wife. In two days, he would be traveling to London to win her back. He had a plan, and was certain that nothing was going to hold him back. But prior to his trip in England, he wanted to send her something as a sort preamble for his arrival. A hint that he would soon be coming to sweep her off her feet.

"I don't know. They're classic, but also cliché," Leo replied.

"You're right. But they're romantic. The ultimate symbol of romance."

"Maybe send her roses along with something else."

"Yes! Candy?"

Leo grimaced and shook his head.

"You want to send a doctor some sugar? That's like sending a dentist a pack of bubble gum."

"Right. Well, what then?"

"Send her a gift. A book, maybe."

"A book?" Jed asked, in disbelief. "See, this is why you're divorced"  
"Jewelry then?"

"Jewelry! Capitol idea! As they say in England."

He grinned. Leo rolled his eyes in return.

"Diamonds or pearls?"

"On Abbey?"

"Yeah," Jed replied.

"Hmm. Well, didn't you get her pearls for Zoey's graduation?"

"Right. I guess diamonds it is."

"Mr. President, actually, I think maybe you might want to hold off on the jewelry. You don't want thousands of dollars to be your preamble. Save the jewelry to give to her yourself when you get to London. For now, send her the roses and maybe just…write her a letter?" Leo suggested.

"A love letter. Yes. She likes it when I use words."

"As does the rest of the country."

London, England

"I don't know what to wear!" Zoey shouted, loud enough so that her voice carried into her mother's connecting suite.

"Oh, Zoey, just put something on!"

"Well, what are you wearing?"

"I'm wearing the dark blue dress from Harrod's," Abbey replied.

"The one with the low neckline?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Lord John's going to jump you, Mom," Zoey said.

Abbey laughed.

"That'll be nothing new."

"You're such a tease," Zoey laughed.

"Actually, I should probably wear a shawl or something. God only knows what John will be tempted to do without your father standing beside me."

"I'm not sure I wanna stick around to see that."

"I'm not sure I do either," Abbey agreed.

"I think I'm gonna wear the purple strapless. What do you think?"

"Ooh, that one looks fantastic on you. Wear it."

"Okay!"

Zoey ran back into her room and closed the door. Abbey finished touching up her makeup, then walked over and sat down at the desk beside her bed. She picked up the phone, and dialed.

Washington, D.C.

Amy Gardner sat in her office in the East Wing, watching C.J.'s press conference on her T.V. The truth was, since the First Lady had left for Europe, she hadn't had much to do. She kept her staff organized, wrestled with the president's staff, and spent most of the time on the phone refusing invitations on Mrs. Bartlet's behalf. Abbey usually contacted her once a day, but there was never much to say. Amy informed her about the latest events in Washington, and Abbey spoke of the various museums and landmarks she and Zoey had visited that day. Compared to her first day working as FLOTUS CoS, this was absolutely snooze-worthy.

"Hey."

Josh Lyman appeared in the doorway of her office, startling her. She dropped her feet off of her desk and turned her swivel chair to face him.

"Hey, J."

"What are you…doing?"

"Watching C.J.'s press conference," Amy replied, matter-of-factly.

"Oh. You wanna go down to the Mess and get something to eat?"

Amy tried to keep herself from jumping at the offer. Finally, something to put an end to her boredom.

"Oh, um, I guess," Amy replied, blandly.

Amy stood up, then sat back down the moment she heard the phone ring

"Amy Gardner."

"Amy, it's me."

"Just one second, Mrs. Bartlet."

She covered the receiver with her hand and looked at Josh. Immediately catching her drift, he quickly faded from view.

"Sorry about that. How are you?"

"Fine, Amy, how are you?"

"I'm great, thank you."

"Anything new?" Abbey asked.

"Not…really."

"No?"

"It's been pretty…quiet around here lately."

"Even in the West Wing?"

"Yeah. They've been having some problems with the new speaker, but nothing they won't overcome."

"Haffley?" Abbey inquired.

"Yes, ma'am. Other than that, there hasn't been toom much. But I imagine things will pick up again soon," Amy replied. "How's London?"

"Wonderful. Listen, I just wanted to let you know, in case the word gets out, I'm going to a party tonight. It's being thrown by Lord John Marbury. You remember him?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"He's throwing it in our honor. I doubt there'll be many notable faces there, nothing to make a fuss about, but just in case, I wanted to make sure you were in the know."

"Okay. Anything else I should know?" Amy asked.

Abbey hesitated before answering.

"Uh…no. Nothing."

"All right. Well, I'll let you get to that party."

"Okay. Thanks, Amy."

"Thank you, ma'am."

With that, Amy hung up the phone, then leaned back in her chair and threw her legs on top of her desk again. She unmuted the T.V. and listened as C.J. continued to brief the press.

"Yes, the First Lady is safe and sound in London, enjoying herself. She and Zoey are spending some much-needed quality time together, and that's all I have to report. Now, as for Speaker Haffley's remark…"

C.J. voice faded as Amy's thoughts began to drift, wondering of Lord Marbury's party this evening was really going to be nothing to fuss about. 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

London, England

When Abbey and Zoey arrived at the party, all the other guests had arrived and the party was in full swing. They gazed around at their surroundings in awe. There were hundreds of people in attendance, very few of which they even recognized. They had barely overcome their disorientation, when they were nearly attacked by Lord John Marbury and Sir Anthony Prescott.

"ABIGAIL!"

Naturally, that was Lord John. His usual opening line had become nothing short of legendary to those who knew him, and knew Abbey.

"Lord John," Abbey replied, grinning from ear to ear.

"You are a vision as always."

"Thank you!"

John turned to greet Zoey, and Tony made a step in Abbey's direction.

"Hello, Abbey."

"Hi, Tony. Lovely party."

"I thought you hated parties."

"Oh, I do."

Tony laughed, as she continued.

"But as far as parties goes, this one is lovely."

"Well, I'm glad you think so."

"Hi, Tony," Zoey said.

"Zoey! You look wonderful."

"Thanks!"

"Should I be making the rounds and introducing myself?" Abbey asked.

"No, no. Let people come to you. Relax. I told you, this isn't like Washington."

Abbey rolled her eyes, skeptically.

"We'll see about that."

Washington, D.C.

"Did you have those roses sent?" Jed asked Debbie as she strode into the Oval Office.

"Yes, sir. They should arrive in London today."

"And the letter?"

"And the letter," Debbie confirmed.

"She'll get them today?"

"Yes, sir."

"You think she'll like the roses?" Jed asked, uncertainly.

"What's not to like about roses?"

"That's what I thought too. Leo doesn't think she'll like them."

"Oh, she'll like them, sir. But I'm not sure that's going to send her running into your arms," Debbie replied.

Jed did a double take, taking a moment to study his secretary. Immediately her eyes widened in horror at what she had just said.

"I'm sorry, sir. That was incredibly insensitive of me. You know I would never…"

"It's all right, Debbie. You make a fair point."

He smiled.

"Sir?"

"She's not going to forgive me all on account of a few dozen roses. I'm going to have to work at it," Jed said.

"Yes, sir. I have faith in you."

"I appreciate that. Now. What's next?"

Baltimore, Maryland

Throughout the past few weeks, Eleanor Bartlet hadn't been acting like herself. She was normally a very quiet, reserved woman. But lately, she had also been distracted and emotionally removed from most situations. Most people hadn't noticed the slight change in her behavior. Her boyfriend, Mark Schaefer, was the only exception. When Ellie and Mark first met at Yale, they had become fast friends, but nothing more. They met again a few years later at Johns Hopkins, both in med school. In the two years they'd been dating, Mark had been a source of comfort and reassurance to her during the MS scandal, re-election, and later, her sister's abduction. Mark had sensed that Ellie needed to get out. She needed to relax and enjoy herself. Thus, he took her out to dinner. Unfortunately, it was the same night at Lord Marbury's party and she couldn't take her mind off of it for a second.

"Ellie."

Mark's voice jolted her back to reality, and out of her reverie.

"Hmm?"

"Aren't you going to eat?" He asked.

"Oh, um…I'm not really hungry."

"You should really eat something."

"No," Ellie replied, softly. "I'm fine."

"Okay." He put his fork down. "What's going on?"

"What?"

"You've been acting strange for weeks now. What is it?"

"It's nothing, Mark. Don't worry about it."

"Ellie, if something's bothering you, something's bothering me too. Tell me."

She sighed.

"It's just…you know, my parents."

"They're still not talking?" Mark asked.

"Yeah. Mom still refuses his calls. And now…" She trailed off.

"What, El?"

"Now, Zoey says there's someone else."

Mark's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean, someone else?"

"Apparently, Mom's met some guy in England. Liz calls him Nobility Man, because apparently he's been knighted or something. Zoey thinks something's going to happen between them."

Mark laughed.

"Even I know your mother would never do that!"

Ellie shrugged.

"Ellie…come on. You don't really think…"

"I don't know anymore. I can't even begin to fathom this situation. And it all happens so fast. I don't think either of them even know what they're doing. I don't think Dad knows what hit him. And I don't think Mom's even…in her right mind," Ellie said.

"What do you mean?"

"She's not thinking clearly. I mean, this just…isn't her. I have no idea what's going through her mind."

"You don't think maybe she's just…a little disoriented? A lot has happened in the last two months, Ellie."

"Maybe she was at first. But now it's more than that. I wish I could understand it. I really do. This is my mother we're talking about. I don't always agree with everything she does, but at least I usually understand it on some level."

"She's a grown woman. She knows what she's doing, El. I don't think she's going to throw her entire life away over this, do you?"

Ellie shook her head.

"I guess not."

"Okay then. Now. Will you eat something please?"

London, England

Zoey Bartlet was always quick to make friends. After a few minutes of mingling at the party, she had already acquired quite a large following of companions. By 9:30, she sat at a table surrounded by girls her age, all of them sipping from their glasses of wine.

"Excuse me."

All her friends stopped talking and stared at the attractive young man who had just appeared behind the First Daughter of the United States. Zoey turned around.

"I'm sorry to interrupt."

Zoey's jaw dropped a little while a smile crept over her face.

"That's okay!"

"I was just wondering if you'd like to join me on the dance floor."

Zoey looked back at her friends, who had begun squealing girlishly.

"Go, Zoey!"

"Well," Zoey said, with a sigh. "All right."

She allowed the young man to lead her onto the dance floor, all the while curiously observing him.

"I'm Zoey Bartlet," she said, finally.

He grinned, and she immediately found herself under his spell.

"Oliver Prescott."

London, England

"I'm so sorry the President couldn't be here, Mrs. Bartlet."

"Yes, well, he wanted to, Mr. Prime Minister," Abbey lied.

"Tony. I've told you many times, call me Tony," Prime Minister Tony Blair replied.

"Well, then you have to call me Abbey."

"Fair enough."

Abbey grinned at him, then took another sip from her champagne glass. She nearly spit the champagne back into the glass when Sir Tony Prescott approached him, out of nowhere.

"Tony, old boy," Tony Blair greeted him.

"Glad you could make it, Mr. Prime Minister," Tony Prescott said, with a wink.

"Now, that's enough with calling me Mr. Prime Minister, Tony. I've just gotten through scolding Abbey for doing the very same thing."

"Speaking of Abbey," Tony turned to face her. "May I borrow you for a moment?"

"Sure."

"Excuse us, will you?" Tony asked the Prime Minister.

"Certainly. Nice speaking with you, Abbey."

"Likewise!"

Tony took Abbey's arm and lead her away from the Prime Minister of England.

"You told me no one important was going to be here!" Abbey whispered to him.

"Oh, he's not important."

"He's the Prime Minister!"

"That's just his title. Really, he's just a janitor working in Parliament."

Abbey laughed.

"That doesn't make me feel better. But thanks."

"Oh, come now, Abbey. I know Blair's a friend of yours. You shouldn't have had to impress him."

"It all goes back to foreign affairs, Tony. You know that just as well I do."

"Just this one night, I'd like to have us not worry about politics."

"Easier said than done," Abbey replied.

"Come on outside with me a second. I have something I want to talk to you about."

Washington, D.C.

Elizabeth Bartlet Westin moved quickly through the halls of the West Wing on her way to the Oval Office. She stopped in front of Debbie Fiderer's desk and waited to be notice.

"Uh…Debbie?"

Debbie glanced up, startled.

"Oh, Liz. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Is my dad in?"

"No, he's in the Residence over lunch."

"Is he alone?"

"I believe so. Normally, he'd take this time to have lunch with…"

"My mother, I know."

Debbie nodded, sadly.

"Lately he's taken to eating his lunch alone in the Residence and requests for no interruptions."

"He does?"

"Mm-hmm. And he's never in a good mood when he returns."

"Great."

London, England

Zoey Bartlet and Oliver Prescott strolled around the courtyard in silence, as the party carried on inside. They walked to the far side of the terrace and stopped in front of the glowing fountains.

"I should have known you were Tony's son," Zoey was saying. "You look just like him."

Oliver grinned.

"Oh, do I? Is that compliment, Miss Bartlet?"

"Your father's a handsome man," Zoey replied, coyly

"Ah. It's an inadvertant compliment. My favorite kind."

"You know, you really do look a lot like your father."

"And you look a lot like your mother," Oliver said.

Zoey laughed.

"Everyone knows I look like my dad."

"Well, I can certainly see him in you…but I think you've got more of your mother in you."

Zoey smirked.

"Is that compliment, Mr. Prescott?"

"Your mother's a beautiful woman."

"Well, aren't you every bit my equal," Zoey commented.

"Battle of Wits, anyone?"

"I'd cream you."

"Oh, I think I could give you quite a run for your money."

"We'll see about that."

Washington, D.C.

Elizabeth quietly walked through the Residence, in search of her elusive father. She soon found him in then kitchen, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, all alone. Her heart immediately went out to him.

"Dad?" She called out, quietly.

Jed looked up, a bit startled. A warm smile crept over his face when he saw his daughter standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Hey, Lizzlebit."

Liz laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Don't call me that," She said, walking toward him.

Jed gazed back down at his sandwich.

"Did you want to talk to me, honey?"

"Yeah. Um, the kids and I are leaving soon. I just wanted to say goodbye."

Jed stood and approached her.

"I'm glad you came, Liz."

He pulled her into a tight, lingering hug.

"Me too, Dad."

When they finally broke apart, Liz's eyes dropped to the floor. Jed eyed her suspiciously.

"Is there something else, Elizabeth?"

"No," Liz answered, her eyes meeting his. "Good luck tomorrow. That's all."

"Do you think I'll need it?"

"You're traveling across the globe to win your wife back. God only knows if you'll need it."

"Thanks for that boost of confidence, Liz," Jed replied, with a slight laugh

Liz shrugged.

"I'm here to help." She paused for a beat. "Well, I'm gonna go say goodbye to Amy."

"Mallory's around here somewhere too, ya know. She was visiting with Leo the last time I checked. But by now, she's probably bugging Amy."

"That sounds like Mal. Anyway. I'll call you when I get back to New Hampshire."

"Ok. Bye, hon. I love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

London, England

Tony Prescott had swiftly guided Abbey away from the party. He brought her outside into the courtyard, just moments after Oliver had taken Zoey back inside the building. Abbey was all smiles, after having her glass of champagne refilled for the third time. But Tony was nothing if not serious.

"So. What did you want to talk to me about?"

The end of her question was slurred by a high-pitched hiccup. She giggled and covered her mouth with her hand. Tony couldn't help but laugh at her.

"I think you've had enough bubbly for one evening, Abbey," Tony said, taking her glass from her and placing it on top of the brick partition that separated that terrace and the courtyard.

"You're no fun," Abbey complained.

"I know you know what I want to say to you."

"No…honestly, I have no idea."

"What are your plans, Abbey? You're married to the President of the United States, yet you're here toying with me. I don't know what to think."

"I…I don't…"

"When are you going back to Washington?"

Abbey shook her head immediately, as if trying to knock the thought out of her brain.

"Not anytime soon!"

"What does this mean? I don't know what this means. Tell me."

"Tony, I don't know. You know I have no plans. I just…I'm sorry, I have no answers for you. I wish I could give them to you."

"How can I help you?" Tony asked. "How can I help you make up your mind?"

When she didn't reply, Tony decided to take matters into his own hands. Slowly, cautiously, he leaned in. Her eyes widened with fear and anticipation when she realized what he was about to do. She closed her eyes, held her breath, and then…

They were both thrown off-guard by a few stunning bright lights flashing upon then and the sound of cameras clicking away. They both looked in the directions of the cameras, to find two members of the paparazzi standing before them. Without a word, the two photographers fled the scene, leaving the First Lady of the United States and a man knighted by the Queen of England absolutely astonished.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Thirteen

Washington, D.C.

Elizabeth made her way from the Residence to the East Wing of the White House directly after speaking with her father. She stopped in front of the door that belonged to the office of her mother's Chief of Staff. From outside, she could hear two women laughing and talking like teenagers and she smiled. It reminded her of the old days, when the three of them were carefree kids who turned into carefree college students. She missed those days desperately.

Liz knocked lightly on the door, then let herself into Amy Gardner's office. Mallory O'Brien was sitting on the couch, and Amy sat opposite her, on the edge of her desk.

"Liz!" Mallory exclaimed, cheerfully.

"Hey, Lizzers," Amy said, with a smirk.

"What are you two crazy kids doing in here?" Liz asked, dropping herself down on the couch beside Mallory.

"Talking about Mal's new boyfriend," Amy replied.

"Uh-uh," Liz said, shaking her head. "I refuse to picture you with anyone but Mr. Seaborn."

Mallory rolled her eyes.

"You've gotta over that, Liz. Nothing's going to happen with Sam and me. That was three years ago, almost four."

"I won't rest until I'm a bridesmaid at your wedding."

"I second that," Amy added.

"Oh, no you don't, Amelia. You're not one to talk, Mrs. Lyman."

Amy's jaw dropped in mock surprise. Mallory chuckled.

"I won't rest until I'm a bridesmaid at your wedding too," Liz said.

"Not gonna happen, sister."

"Yes, it will! You and Josh are going to have a double wedding with Mallory and Sam. I have it all planned out, down to the type of flowers and the color of the bridesmaid dresses."

"Oh, please," Mallory said. "Spare us, Liz!"

"Come on, it'll be great! Josh and Sam are best friends, and so are the three of us."

"Yeah, but you won't be the one getting married," Amy pointed out.

"Then we can have a triple wedding. Doug and I will join you and…renew our vows!"

"You've been married eleven years. You can't renew your vows yet," Mallory said.

"Who says? My parents did it every five years."

At that moment, the door swung open and Josh Lyman walked in, followed by his partner-in-crime, Sam Seaborn. Liz raised an eyebrow at the sight of them, highly amused by the serendipity.

"Speak of the devil…or, devils, if you will."

Josh and Sam were, at first, a bit caught off guard at finding not one, but both, of their ex-girlfriends in the same room, along with their boss' eldest daughter. They took a second to regain their composure.

"Sorry to interrupt," Sam said.

"Amy," Josh said, tilting his head to the side. "We need you."

Amy frowned, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"You need…me?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Come on. We've got a thing."

Sam shrugged, sheepishly.

"Sorry about this, Liz." He nodded in her direction, then to the woman sitting beside her. "Mallory."

Mallory nodded back cordially.

"Sam."

Liz looked back and forth, from Mallory to Sam, and smiled to herself. Seeing this, Mallory jabbed Liz in the ribs with her elbow.

"Ow! Mallory!"

Amy stopped in the doorway as Josh and Sam dragged her out of her own office.

"Liz, are you leaving?"

"I'll wait till you get back. No big deal."

"Okay. I don't know how long I'll be," Amy said.

"Don't worry about it, just go."

Amy nodded, then walked briskly down the hallways with Sam and Josh. After a moment, Amy broke the silence that had ensued.

"Either of you going to tell me what's going on?"

"We've got to talk to the President," Josh answered.

"About what? And why do you need me for this?" Amy questioned.

"It's about the First Lady," Sam explained.

"But…I spoke with her yesterday and everything was fine, what the hell could she have done in twenty-four hours?"

Okay, technically, a lot, Amy knew, but she was loyal to her boss to the death.

"Have you ever doubted Mrs. Bartlet's ability to wreak havoc?" Josh asked.

"I haven't," Sam said.

Amy glared at them both as they walked.

"You guys don't know what's going on either, do you? CJ just sent you to get me."

"Of course we know what's going on! We're very important, you know," Josh siad, offensively.

"People from all over the world come to us for advice. Everybody knows our names," Sam added.

"What are you, an episode of Cheers?"

Sam shrugged.

"They're always glad we came."

Amy rolled her eyes.

"You really have no idea what's going on, do you?" She repeated.

"Nope," Sam said.

"No idea," Josh agreed.

"Great."

London, England- the evening before

"Zoey!" Abbey shouted, pushing through crowds to find her daughter.

"Zoey!"

"Mom!" Zoey called out from behind her.

Abbey whipped around, then breathed a sigh of relief.

"We have to leave the party now."

Zoey approached her, with Oliver Prescott trailing behind her

"What? What's going on?"

"Mrs. Bartlet, is everything all right?" Oliver asked with concern.

Abbey shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

"Mom, why are you crying!" Zoey asked, her own eyes filling with tears just observing her mother.

"I'll tell you on the way home. Please…let's go," Abbey begged.

"Okay, sure, fine. Oliver…"

"I know. You have to go. It's okay," Oliver assured her, squeezing her hand gently.

Zoey took Abbey's arm and lead her away from the crowds and out the door. Oliver watched them leave, shocked and worried. Then, he began a search for his father.

"Abbey!" Tony called, coming in from the terrace.

"Dad!" Oliver jogged over to him.

"Where's Abbey?"

"She's gone. She just left with Zoey."

Tony groaned.

"Dear God."

"What the hell did you do you to her, Dad! She was crying!"

"There's paparazzi outside!" Tony shouted.

"What?"

"They were in the courtyard. I don't know how they got in or where they went, but they were here."

"How many?"

"We only saw two. We saw the flashing of the cameras."

"Jesus. Is that why she was crying?"

Tony looked away from his son, which only made Oliver more determined to get an answer out of him.

"Dad, what were you doing when the pictures were taken?" Oliver demanded.

"Who are you, Sherlock Holmes?"

"Dad."

"Nothing!" Tony insisted.

"Dad, what were you doing?"

"I…I was about to kiss her."

"You WHAT!" Oliver shouted.

"Don't look so surprised. You know exactly how I feel about Abbey. How was I to know there would be paparazzi lurking in the bushes?"

"Because they're always lurking in the bushes! In fact, that's the first place you should have looked!"

"Damnit," Tony muttered under his breath.

"Well," Oliver said, with a sigh. "Guess who's picture is going to be on the cover of every magazine and newspaper between here and the United States?"

Washington, D.C.

As Toby Zielger walked through the halls of the West Wing with CJ Cregg alongside him, he noticed that she was being much quieter than usual.

"CJ."

"Huh. What?"

"What is it?"

"What? Nothing," CJ replied, quickly.

"You made Sam and Josh go get Amy. Why?"

"So…she doesn't feel left out?"

"CJ, come on."

"Sometimes I wonder why I'm the only one who looks at the news stand on my way to work," CJ said.

"Meaning…?"

"I'm always the one who comes to you guys and says 'hey, look who's on the cover of so and so, and now we're screwed.'"

Toby shrugged.

"That's your job."

"Wouldn't kill you guys to look at a newspaper now and then, instead of relying on me."

"So who's on the cover of so and so?" Toby asked.

"The First Lady."

"What's the big deal? It's not the first time."

"Yeah, but…"

"But?"

"She's not alone. And I have to be the one to tell the President. Yet again."

"Are the walls of the Oval going to vibrate again?" Toby questioned.

"I think that would be a fair assumption, yes."

"Can I not go to this meeting then?"

"Oh, no. You're going. Sam and Josh are gonna run away like little girls when I show him this magazine, so you're gonna have to be there to save me."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Fourteen

Washington, D.C.

CJ and Toby were the last ones to make it to the Oval Office. Debbie told them to go on in, then she stood outside the closed door to listen in. Charlie gave her a look of great disdain and shook his head disapprovingly.

"Oh, bite me," Debbie whispered.

Charlie brushed it off and continued with what he was doing.

"Charlie! Charlie, you have to come over here and listen to this."

"It's not my job to eavesdrop on the president," Charlie replied, calmly.

"Come on, they don't pay us nearly enough. This is one of the benefits. Like health insurance."

"Yeah. Well, I already know what it is."

"You know what they're talking about?"

"Yeah. The thing with the First Lady."

"What thing with the First Lady?"

Charlie grinned, deviously.

"I guess you'll just have to eavesdrop and find out."

Everyone was seated when CJ and Toby walked in. Leo and the President sat in the two chairs by the desk and Sam, Josh, and Amy sat together on one couch. CJ and Toby sat down beside Will on the opposite couch.

"So," Jed said. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this impromptu meeting?"

They all looked at CJ, as they had been wondering the same thing. Slowly, she pulled out the magazine she had been holding tight to her chest.

"Mr. President…it seems that lately I've been the bearer of bad news."

"Well, you're my press secretary. That's what you do best. What do you have for me now?"

"I…" CJ stuttered, glancing down at her shoes.

Leo looked at her squarely, trying to read her expression.

"CJ? What is it?" He asked, concerned.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this," CJ said.

CJ Cregg had enormous respect and love for both the President and the First Lady. There was no way she could be the one to tell him this. They were like family to her, and she didn't want to the one that broke them apart. In truth, all of the members of the senior staff felt that way about the First Couple.

"Let me see it, CJ," Sam said.

CJ nodded, then leaned across to hand Sam the magazine. He glanced at it once, then dropped it face down onto his lap. He looked up at CJ, his eyes reflecting the shock and anguish that had possessed her eyes as well.  
"Sam?" Josh inquired.

Josh didn't need to say it; Sam instinctively knew the question. He handed his friend the magazine, careful not to let the rest of them see the picture on the cover.

"Oh, jeez," Josh muttered, when he saw it.

"What the hell is going on here!" Jed shouted.

"Amy," Josh said, handing the magazine to her.

After looking at it, Amy's hand involuntarily rose to cover her open mouth.

"Oh, my God."

"What!" Jed shouted again.

"Amy," Leo said, gesturing for her to hand it to him.

From one Chief of Staff to another, Amy handed it to him. Leo was just as shocked as the staff, if not more, by what he saw.

"Leo, give me the damn thing," Jed ordered.

"Sir, I don't think you…"

"As the leader of the free world, by the power vested in me, I hereby demand that you give me that magazine!"

"Sir, I think you should talk to the First Lady before you see this."

"Why?"

"Maybe it's not what we think."

"What the hell could she be doing? Kissing another man?"

Everyone coughed, nearly choking, then tried to put on a straight face again.

"Give it to me, Leo."

"Mr. President…"

Jed didn't wait for him. He grabbed the magazine, and stared at the cover in shock. The staff watched him nervously, waiting for his verbal reaction. It was nearly two whole minutes before the president spoke.  
Jed sighed, put the magazine down, then pulled his glasses off and looked around at his staff.

"Well," he said. "I guess we can cancel the trip to London."

Half an hour later, Elizabeth and Mallory were still waiting in Amy's office. They didn't think much of Amy's absence. They both knew how the President loved to spend time regaling his staff with various stories and filling their heads with useless knowledge. Liz and Mallory were content just hanging out and talking, passing the time the way they used to.

"Mom!"

Liz and Mallory turned their heads in surprise when Annie pushed the door open and walked into Amy's office.

"What's wrong, Annie?" Liz asked, urgently.

She glanced down at the magazine Annie was holding.

"What's that?"

Annie held up the magazine so her mother and her godmother could see the picture on the cover.

"Oh, my God," Mallory whispered.

"Where did you get that?" Liz snapped, as she snatched the magazine out of her daughter's hands.

"Carol gave it to me. CJ's got a whole bunch of copies in her office, and I was looking for something to read for the plane ride home," Annie explained, her voice broken.

Liz pursed her lips, clenched her fist, and threw the magazine into the wastebasket. Annie watched her with frightened eyes. Seeing that, Mallory smiled sympathetically and held her arm out to her.

"Sit down, honey."

Annie walked over and sat beside her godmother.

"Listen to me, Anne. You can't believe everything you see. Appearances can be deceiving. That magazine is trash. Do you hear me?" Liz exclaimed.

"Mom, it's People Magazine! It's not trash!"

"Any magazine that would put that ridiculous picture on the cover of their publication is trash!"

"It's not just People," Annie whispered.

"What?"

"It's not just People. Carol had US Weekly, InTouch, and some others. It's on Page Six of the New York Post! And the New York Times and the Boston Globe…"

"Stop!"

"Liz, calm down, I'm sure it's just…" Mallory began.

"It's just my mom on the cover of every periodical in the United States with a man that most certainly is NOT my father!" Liz shouted back.

"I'm sure it's not what we think. You said yourself, you can't believe everything you see."

Elizabeth shook her head.

"Zoey said there was someone else," she whispered.

"What?"

"Zoey said there was someone else. In London." She shrugged. "I guess that's him. Nobility Man."

"Nobility Man?"

"He's been decorated by the Queen or…something. I don't know. Quite frankly, I don't like to think about it."

"Yeah," Mallory replied, quitely. "Wow."

"Are Grandma and Grandpa gonna get a divorce?" Annie asked.

"No! They absolutely are not, Anne."

"Yeah. Well, when you call me Anne, it makes me think you're lying."

"What?"

"You always call me that when you don't want me to know if something's happening. Like I shouldn't even be asking. That always gives it away," Annie said. "I'm fifteen, Mom. I'm not stupid."

"I know you're not stupid. I just…don't want you jumping to any conclusions," Liz explained.

"I don't think there'd be any jumping involved. Looks to me like the conclusions are right there on the cover of People Magazine."

London, England- the evening before

When they arrived at the hotel from the party, a still tearful Abbey convinced her daughter that she was fine. Zoey reluctantly returned to her own room, allowing her mother to be on her own for awhile. Abbey swiped her room key card and unlocked the door. She said goodnight to her agents, who stood guard just outside the room, and then walked in. She stumbled through the darkness, her hand brushing the wall, searching for the light switch. She finally felt the switch beneath the palm of her hand, then moved it down to flip it up. The lights flickered on, illuminating the entire room and revealing the hundreds of roses that were strategically placed around the room. Abbey was taken aback by the gesture, and the amount of roses before her. But for the first time since she had gotten married, Abbey didn't know who the roses were from. She knew it could only be one of two people, but the fact that she was entertaining two suspicions made her feel uneasy.  
Making her way through the room, careful not to disturb the roses, she found an envelope sitting on her bedside table. On the front, the word 'Abigail' was written in very distinctive, familiar penmanship. Her lips formed a sad smile as she sat down on the bed and picked up the envelope. She opened it, and pulled the letter out, running her fingers over it lightly. It had been nearly thirty years since he had written her a letter. There had never been any need to. There were times when she had asked him to, just for fun. But he never saw the point.

Abbey smiled when she saw what he had wrote, and then her eyes filled with tears yet again. He had written her the lyrics to one of her favorite songs. She didn't think he remembered. She had only mentioned it a few times to him, and he hadn't really been listening any of those times. Reading the lyrics, she was surprised at how truly pertinent the words were to the situation. And the tears came flowing down her cheeks at a rapid pace.

"Dear Abbey,  
I know sometimes I'm not so good with words. I can speak to a crowd, but I don't always say what I should to you. I thought the lyrics to this song, which, I know, is one your favorites, would say it all:

Is it getting better Or do you feel the same Will it make it easier on you now, You got someone to blame You say...

One love,  
One life, When it's one need In the night One love We get to share it Leaves you, baby, if you Don't care for it

Did I disappoint you Or leave a bad taste in your mouth You act like you never had love And you want me to go without Well it's...

Too late Tonight To drag the past out into the light We're one, but we're not the same We get to Carry each other, Carry each other, One...

Have you come here for forgiveness Have you come to raise the dead Have you come here to play Jesus To the lepers in your head

Did I ask too much More than a lot You gave me nothing Now it's all I got We're one But we're not the same Well we Hurt each other Then we do it again You say Love is a temple Love, a higher law Love is a temple Love, the higher law You ask me to enter But then you make me crawl And I can't be holding on To what you got When all you got is hurt One love One blood One life You got to do what you should One life With each other Sisters Brothers One life But we're not the same We get to Carry each other Carry each other

One...life

One

I hope you find that as appropriate as I did. Sometimes, I don't think I tell you enough. I assume that you know, that you understand. And while I'm certain that you do, it's still not a good enough excuse. I love you, Abbey. I know it doesn't always seem this way, but you are the most important thing in my life. I get my priorities mixed up now and then, I know. But there is nothing I want more than for you to come back home, for you to come back to me. Let's work on this together, Abbey, like we always have. This silence isn't doing us any good. I need you to talk to me. I'll listen, I promise. By the time this letter reaches you, I'll be on my way to London. So don't make any plans. You'll have your hands full.

All my love,  
Jed

Abbey didn't bother to wipe away her tears, as they were now falling at a steady pace. She had no doubt that the pictures taken by the paparazzi that night would be on the cover of every publication known to man by morning. She had ruined it. Even though she hadn't done anything with Sir Prescott, she knew Jed's jealous streak would get the best of him, and this would hurt him more than anything. Would he still come to London for her? Despite all of this, Abbey genuinely believed he would, if only out of curiousity. He would come. He said he would. And while he may have kept secrets from her in the past, he had never broken his word to her. Unless you count The Deal, which she didn't anymore. He would come. And she would explain. And they would fix this. They would fix them.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fifteen

Washington, D.C.

Shortly after seeing the magazine, President Bartlet retreated to the Residence for lunch. The staff was getting used to the president eating alone, but Leo wasn't going to stand for it today. He followed him upstairs and into the kitchen, where he found him sitting all alone, as usual.

"Mr. President."

"Not only my best friend and Chief of Staff, but also my shadow, I see," Jed replied, not looking at him.

Leo moved to sit across from him . "CJ's facing the press?"

"Yeah," Leo answered.

"She's getting killed out there, isn't she?"

"She's tough."

"What's she saying?" Jed asked.

Leo shrugged.

"She's got nothing. She has no information, so she's just gonna wing it."

Jed nodded, contemplatively.

"How are you doing, sir?"

"How do you think, Leo?"

"Yeah," Leo replied, quietly. "Listen, you know…we don't have to cancel the trip to London."

"I know."

"It'll be a big thing with the press, but nothing we can't handle. So, if you want to go to London and check things out for yourself…"

"I'm not going, Leo," Jed said, adamently.

"Sir, while I realize it's not my place to say, I really think you should hear Abbey's side. You don't know what's going on."

"I know what's going on. Along with the rest of the world."

"You can't trust those paparazzi photos, you know that," Leo said.

"Apparently I can't trust Abbey."

Leo didn't know what to say to that. What could he say?

"So what are you gonna do?"

"I don't know," Jed responded, sadly. "Tony Prescott. Of all people."

"Yeah."

"How the hell did she meet him!"

"I don't know for sure, sir, but I'm hearing Versailles," Leo replied.

"You're hearing Versailles? What? From who?"

"Zoey told Liz who told Mallory who told me."

"You knew about this!"

"No, sir. I heard that they met in Versailles. I had no idea they had developed…a friendship."

Jed glared at him.

"Did you see the picture inside?"

"Yeah," Leo replied. "Zoey."

"Zoey and some guy. Some young, debonair, charming Englishman, I'm sure."

"Oliver Prescott, sir," Leo said, surprised that Jed hadn't realized that on his own.

"What?"

"The charming Englishman. Oliver Prescott."

"He's not…"

"Tony Prescott's son? Yeah."

"You're kidding me!"

"No, sir."

"Well, that's just great. They can double date," Jed said, bitterly.

London, England

"Mom?" Zoey said, peeking her head into her mother's hotel room.

Abbey was sitting on the couch, re-reading Jed's letter, and not for the first time.

"Hmm?"

"Oliver and I are gonna go for a walk down to the Millenium wheel, you wanna come?"

"No, honey, I think I'll just stay here for awhile," Abbey replied.

"We were gonna stop at Westminster on the way, and Big Ben…"

"Maybe I'll walk down there later."

Zoey sighed.

"Mom, you haven't left the hotel all day. You should really get some air."

"Not till he comes," Abbey said, stubbornly.

"And if he doesn't?"

Abbey scowled at her.

"He will."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you later."

Washington, D.C.

CJ Cregg heard the familiar voices shouting her name as she walked up to her podium in the press room. Normally she didn't stress about her briefings, but she knew she was going to get torn to shreds at this particular one.

"Okay, before we get this started, I just want to let you know that, at this time, I don't have much information for you. I'll answer your questions as best I can. I have not spoken to the First Lady today, nor has Amy Gardner. Keep that in mind please. I'm just going to take questions."

"CJ!"

"CJ!"

"CJ!"

"Okay…Katie."

"What can you tell us about Sir Anthony Prescott?"

"Not much. I know that Sir Anthony Prescott was knighted by the Queen in 1996 and he, along with the Prime Minister, has always had a friendly relationship with the President. Arthur."

"What is the nature of the First Lady's relationship with Anthony Prescott?

"I…I don't know. I assume they're just friends."

"CJ, you saw the pictures. You think they're just friends?"

"I don't speculate. I don't have hard evidence or information. Mark."

"How did the President react the photograph?"

"I…well, that's not my place to say."

"Surely he wasn't thrilled?"

"The President hasn't jumped to any conclusions and I'm fairly certain he would be grateful if you did the same."

Josh Lyman sat in Amy Gardner's office, facing the television. Amy sat behind her desk, her feet resting on the top. They watched CJ's briefing, their eyes glued to the screen. After a few minutes, Amy had to look away, and Josh grimaced.

"She's getting clobbered," Josh said.

"Yeah, I'll say," Amy agreed, with a sigh.

"You don't have anything?"

"Nothing. I haven't heard from her in two days."

"You can't call her?" Josh asked.

"I can, but she likes to do the calling. Honestly, I don't know what the hell to say to her."

"You think this is a bigger thing than we think?"

"Could it get any bigger?" Amy responded.

"I don't know. I think it can."

"Me too."

"You think she's…?" Josh trailed off.

"I don't know."

"You know, we've always had our hands full with Mrs. Bartlet, but I never thought we'd have a problem with something like this. I never counted on this type of scandal."

"It's not a scandal yet, Josh," Amy said.

"Yeah, it is. And I have a feeling it's just going to get worse."

"Maybe it's not what we think."

"And maybe it is."

"I've known the First Lady practically since I was born. She would never…

"Never what? You can't even say it!"

"The Bartlets are like family to me, Josh. Liz is my best friend, Abbey's my boss. Hell, I worked on the President's campaign for governor. I have a history with this family. I can't even comprehend…something like this."

"Yeah," Josh said. "I know. Makes you think though, doesn't it?"

"About what?"

"Just…if something like this could happen to the First Couple…it could happen to anyone."

Baltimore, Maryland

Ellie Bartlet sat alone in her apartment, comfortably positioned on her couch with her laptop. She had the news on the television, but the volume was muted. When the phone rang, she momentarily stopped typing, and reached over to grab the portable phone.

"Hello?"

"Turn on the news," Mark, her boyfriend, told her.

"I have it on mute."

"Un-mute it."

Skeptically, Ellie reached for the remote and turned the sound on.

"Oh, my God," she whispered.

The six o'clock news was now running the story about the First Lady and her 'new man.'

"Ellie?" Mark said, when she hadn't made a sound in a few minutes.

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"I…" She was finding it difficult to concentrate.

"Do you want me to come over?"

"No, I'm fine. I…I need to call my sisters."

"Okay. Call me back later, all right?"

"Okay. Bye."

London, England

Zoey Bartlet and Oliver Prescott meandered down the Millenium Bridge, enjoying the sights. Zoey's agents were not far behind, trailing them. The view from the bridge was stunning. The bridge itself was remarkable, and brand new. The steels frames made Zoey nervous at first, but Oliver assured her it was absolutely safe and after a few minutes of coaxing and cajoling, he convinced her to follow him onto it.

"What happened to the fearless Zoey Bartlet I've heard so much about"  
Oliver asked her.

"She grew up."

Though she tried to put on a brave face, Oliver knew exactly what she meant.

"It's okay to talk about it, you know."

"I don't think I'm ready for that yet," Zoey admitted, quietly.

"Okay. That's fine. Whenever you're ready."

Zoey nodded, gratefully, but her mind and her thoughts were elsewhere.

"Oliver…we have to talk."

"I know."

"My dad's press secretary is going to be getting questions about us. This is gonna be big, whether we like it or not."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Oliver asked. "I mean, we haven't done anything wrong, have we?"

"No," Zoey replied, looking away from him. "But the thing with our parents is going to be a major scandal. We're just going to add to it."

"Do our parents even have a thing yet?"

"I don't think so, but that means nothing to the press, or the public. You know that. I'd bet you a hundred bucks that my mother's approval rating just went down twenty or thirty points."

"And I'll be you fifty pounds it didn't."

Zoey smiled, but shook her head.

"You don't know how it works in Washington."

"Even if it did go down thirty points, I bet you two hundred pounds your mother doesn't give a damn," Oliver said.

Zoey could help but laugh. She was sure that was true.

"Yeah. You're probably right. But there are plenty of people who do care."

"Screw 'em! As they say in America," Oliver proclaimed.

"See, this is exactly how I used to be. I didn't care. Now I do. I don't want to screw things up for my dad, or his staff."

"Zoey, we're not doing anything wrong! We met at a party, we enjoy each other's company, and we want to spend some more time together. So, our picture was inside a magazine. It wasn't on the cover, and it's not going to be. We're not the story here. We're young, and we're just living our lives."

"Oliver, I told you. If our parents start up a thing…which, honestly, I don't want to even think about, and then the press gets wind that we're together…it's never going to end. Don't you get that?"

"Zoey…"

"Even if they don't start up a thing, it's never going to end. I'm the First Daughter of the United States. And I also happen to be the most visible one. Ellie and Liz, they've never been in the spotlight like I have. I went Georgetown, I was at Roslyn, and I was kidnapped! If I start dating the son of the man my mother was seen kissing on the cover of every publication in the United States, it's going to make the six o'clock news everywhere in the world!"

Oliver held his hand up.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but…they weren't kissing."

"Well, whatever!" Zoey shouted, in exhasperation. "No one cares what they were doing. They were together and they were close, and that is ALL anyone needs to know!"

"Zoey, listen to me," Oliver said, grasping her shoulders gently and looking straight into her eyes. "I really like you. This doesn't happen to me all the time."

Zoey rolled her eyes.

"Please, you're one of London's most famous young playboys."

"A common misconception, I'll have you know. I lived with the same girl for over a year. I'm no philanderer."

"Then you're on the rebound," Zoey countered.

"If I'm on the rebound, so are you, Marie-Antoinette."

Zoey let out a frustrated sigh and averted her eyes from his.

"Zoey, would you look at me please? I want this to work between us. And if it doesn't, I don't want the reason to be because Daddy's staff didn't like it! Let's give this a shot and see what happens. What do you say?"

A smile crept over her face as she leaned in closer to him.

"Maybe not so much for you with the talking."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Sixteen

London, England

It had been three days since Lord Marbury's party. Three days since Abigail Bartlet had found her room saturated by roses. Three days since she received the letter that made her cry and gave her hope. Three days since she had left her hotel suite. Three days, she had been waiting for him. And in three days, he hadn't come. He hadn't called, he hadn't written. He hadn't even sent someone else to call, as had been the case many a time.  
Someone else had called. Yes, someone else had called many times. But it wasn't the someone she wanted. It was the someone who wanted her.

For the first time since she left for Europe, Abbey felt the breakdown of her marriage. No matter how angry she had been after she left, or how betrayed she felt, she never felt it. She figured that, somehow, they would find a way. Somehow, God would bring them back together. She never thought it would get this far. And now, he had given up on her. She ruined it. Thirty-seven years. Thirty-seven years of laughter, tears, arguments, joy, triumph, tragedy, and most of all, love. Ruined.

No. Not ruined. She wasn't ready to let it go yet. Maybe something happened. Maybe there was a situation that prevented him from coming, and from calling. She wasn't going to jump to conclusions anymore. She was through with that. He was the President of the United States, she reasoned. Things happen. If no one one was going to call her, she was going to call them.

Washington, D.C.

Sam Seaborn sat in CJ Cregg's office, listening to the sound of CJ typing away on her laptop. It had been a few minutes since either of them had spoken. Sam had started to wonder why it was he was even in the room.

"CJ."

"Hmm."

"Can I go now?" Sam asked.

"No."

"Can I ask why?"

"No."

"Fair enough. Can I at least have a magazine then?"

CJ looked up at him.

"Don't say the word magazine to me ever again."

"Right. Any other off-limits words I should know about?"

"Suffice it to say, the words 'first' and 'lady' are two of them," CJ replied.

Sam nodded.

"That's a given."

"Sam, do you have any idea what I've been…"

Her sentence was interrupted by Carol opening the door and popping her head in the office.

"CJ."

"Yeah."

"Briefing."

"Now?"

"Yeah!" Carol said, matter-of-factly.

CJ shook her head.

"Nope. Uh-uh. Not going."

"What are you, eight years old? Get up, you're going to school!"

"Cancel the briefing, Carol. I can't do this anymore."CJ, if I could…" Sam said.

"No, shut up. Carol, I'm not going."

"I'm not gonna cancel your briefing on account of you're a whiny little baby! If you want to cancel it…you do it."

With that, Carol was gone.

"Damnit!"

"Do you want my advice?" Sam asked.

"No. What is it?"

"Go ahead with the briefing. Whatever you don't answer now, you're just gonna have to answer later."

CJ sighed, relenting.

"Why won't she call, Sam? She's a smart woman. She has to realize what I'm dealing with here."

"Don't get me wrong here, I know what you're going through isn't a piece of cake, but I think Mrs. Bartlet got a lot happening across the pond too. I don't think she's at a spa getting a massage right now, do you?"

"No. But the least she could do is call me and say 'Hey, CJ, there's nothing going on with me and Tony Prescott.' Then at least I could deny it."

"What if there is?"

"What?"

"What if there is something going on?"

CJ laughed.

"Sam, come on."

"I'm serious. Maybe that's why she hasn't called. Because, what is she gonna do? Say 'Hey, CJ, I'm cheating on the President, make sure you tell the press.'"

"Sam!"

"What? I'm just trying to weigh out our options here. Anything could happen at this point."

"It better not happen."

"Wake up, CJ. It's going to."

The press secretary was getting clobbered again. Amy Gardner didn't know how many times she could watch CJ on the podium, struggling to mollify the press corps. It seemed like their questions were never-ending. Every day, they conjured up new questions, none of which CJ seemed to have answers for.

Amy sat at her desk, staring at the phone, just willing it to ring. The First Lady had to call some time, she figured. Why not now?

"Ring!" Amy demanded, leaning down until her face was a few inches from the phone. "Ring, damnit! Please…come on, baby, ring for Amy. You can do it! Ring!"

She nearly fell off her chair when the piercing sound of the phone ringing, actually ringing, penetrated the air. When she regained her composure, she picked up the phone off the receiver.

"Amy Gardner."

"Hi, Amy. It's me."

"Wow," Amy whispered. "I am GOOD."

"Excuse me?" Abbey asked.

"Nothing, ma'am. I'm just thinking of taking up sorcery."

"Right."

"How are you, Mrs. Bartlet?"

"Fine, thank you. How are you?"

"Not so good, ma'am."

"Oh?"

"I've spent the last three days waiting for your call."

"I'm sorry, Amy. I've been…busy," Abbey said.

"Mrs. Bartlet, I mean this with all due respect, but…what the hell is going on!"

"You're angry," Abbey observed.

"Well, yeah. I guess you could say that."

Amy heard her boss sigh on the end of the line.

"Ma'am, you should have called as soon as it happened."

"Well, I didn't," Abbey said.

"No, you didn't. That's lead to chaos."

"How?"

"Because we need information! And you haven't given us any," Amy said.

"No information to give," Abbey said, simply.

"Oh, come on, Mrs. Bartlet. You have to give me more than that!"

"The reason I called, Amy, is because the President was supposed to travel to London a few days ago. Was the trip canceled"  
"Yeah."

"Why?"

"You know why, ma'am."

"Yeah." Abbey sighed deeply. "All right then. I'll let you go."

"Mrs. Bartlet, we really need to…"

"I'll be in touch, Amy."

"But…"

Click.

"Great," Amy muttered to herself. "This is just swell."

"Debbie!" Jed called, exiting his office.

Debbie stood.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm gonna go for a walk, I'll be back in ten minutes," he said.

"A walk, sir?"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna walk down to the East Wing for a minute."

"You've got the Secretary of Labor in fifteen minutes," Debbie said.

"Got it."

The President was headed to the East Wing with a purpose, though it wasn't one he wanted people to be aware of. For the last month, his wife's schedule had been a mystery to him. He didn't know what she was doing and he didn't know when she was coming back. Well, that was all going to end. He was going to pay a little visit to the First Lady's social secretary. Brantley Moore's office hadn't been busy these past few weeks, to say the least. He was new to the job of the First Lady's social secretary, having just started the day before Zoey Bartlet's kidnapping. He had no idea what 'normal' was for the White House. Most of the time he had been there, his boss hadn't even been around. When the President walked into his office, he found himself absolutely astounded.

"Mr. President!"

"Bradley, is it?"

"Brantley, sir."

"Right. Brantley. How are you today?" Jed asked.

"Excellent, sir. Th-thank you for asking. How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. Listen, I wanted to ask you about my wife's schedule."

"Yes, sir."

"There's a DAR reception coming up next month, isn't there?"

"Yes, sir, there is."

"Is she going?"

"No, sir, she asked me to cancel it."

"How long ago did she ask you to do that?" Jed questioned.

"This afternoon, sir."

"My wife was in touch with you today?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did she ask you to cancel anything else?"

"Oh…yes, sir. She asked me to clear her schedule in Washington for the next two months."

"Two months?"

"That's right. And she said I shouldn't count on her after that either."

"That was her wording, huh?" Jed surmised.

"Yes, sir. She said, 'Don't count on me any time after that either.'"

Jed nodded.

"That's Abbey all right. Well. Thank you, Bradley."

"It's Brant…oh, forget it, Bradley's fine."

"Good. I'll see you around."

"I hope so. Thank you, sir."

"Have a good day, Brad."

Jed put his hands in his pockets and began his stroll down the hallways of the East Wing, deep in thought. As he passed by Amy Gardner's office, he heard a few screams of frustration from inside. He peeked his head in the door, curiously, then opened it all the way. Amy was sitting in her chair, banging her head on her desk.

"Amy?"

Her head jerked up immediately.

"Mr. President."

She stood to greet him.

"This…is a pleasant surprise, sir."

"Doesn't sound so pleasant. What's going on?"

Amy groaned in discontent.

"I just got off the phone with…" She stopped herself quickly, realizing who she was talking to. "Nobody."

Jed eyed her suspiciously.

"Amy, were you on the phone with the First Lady?"

Amy looked down at the ground.

"Yes, sir," she mumbled.

"It's okay to say it, you know."

"Yes, sir."

"Why were you screaming?"

"I..she…she can be frustrating sometimes."

Jed laughed.

"Don't I know it."

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to…"

"You didn't, Amy. You've never watched your words around me before, let's not start now, all right?"

"Yes, sir!"

"So. Did she call to tell you she's not coming back?"

Amy stared at him in confusion.

"No…sir, she didn't."

"She didn't?" Jed asked, surprised.

"No. She…just wanted to know why the trip to London was canceled. If you ask me, sir…she was looking forward to your visit."

"Do me a favor, Amy?"

"Anything, sir."

"Call Debbie for me and ask her to get me Leo please. I'm on my way to the office."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm going to London."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Seventeen

Washington, D.C.

"Sir, you just canceled your trip to London," Leo said.

"Well, now I want to go again."

"Can I ask why?"

"She called Amy," Jed said.

"Sir?"

"Abbey. She called Amy and asked why the trip was canceled. She was expecting me to come."

"You can't be serious," Leo said.

"I am serious! It must have been a misunderstanding. I have to go to London, Leo. I have to talk to her."

Leo nodded.

"Okay. I'll see what I can do. But I don't think you'll be able to go until next week maybe."

"Fine," Jed said. "I can't lose her, Leo."

"You won't. You and Abbey weren't meant to be apart. You won't lose her. I'll make sure of it," Leo assured him.

"Thank you. Really."

"That's my job, sir."

"Leo, you're my Chief of Staff, it's not your…"

"I'm your best friend, Jed. It's my job."

London, England

Zoey Bartlet and Oliver Prescott sat in a small coffee shop near Hyde Park. Zoey had turned quiet after a few minutes, prefering to sip her latte in silence. The usually talkative young woman seemed to be at a loss for words these last couple of days, Oliver noticed. It worried him. Even when she was upset, she would talk to him. She was very much like her mother in that respect.

"Zoey."

"Hmm?"

Her fingers traced the rim of her coffee mug absently.

"What are you thinking?"

She shrugged.

"Nothing. How long have they been out there?"

"What?"

"Our parents. When did they leave?" Zoey asked.

"Oh…maybe an hour ago, I don't know. Why?"

"No reason. Just curious."

"You know, Dad was really surprised when your mother called him," Oliver said.

"I think Mom was just as surprised."

"Listen, Zoey, I know it…freaks you out, I guess is how you would put it. But Dad really likes her. And he's not going to hurt her."

"No, I know. It's not him. It's…anyone that's not my dad. You know?"

"I understand. It's different for me. My parents have been divorced for years. You'll recover soon enough."

Zoey stared at him in confusion.

"I'll recover from what?"

"Your parents divorcing," Oliver replied, nonchalantly.  
"My parents are NOT divorcing!" She exclaimed.  
"Zoey, come on."

"They're not! No!"

"Okay. Fine. They're not."

"They're not, Oliver," Zoey repeated, firmly.

"Yeah. Fine. Do you want another cup of coffee?"

"No. Thanks."

Hyde Park- London

"I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you, Tony," Abbey said.

"It's quite all right. It's been bad back in Washington, hasn't it?"

Abbey nodded.

"The press is all over it. They're all angry with me because I won't give them any information."

"About us?"

"Yes."

"I've got a few questions about us as well," Tony said.

"That's what I was afraid of."

"Abbey, I don't want to push you. And I don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me. But you must know how I feel about you."

"I do know."

"Then tell me where I stand."

"Well then, I guess it's time I told you what's been going on this past week. After the party, I came back to my hotel room to find it filled with roses, from my husband. There was a letter saying he was going to come to London the next day, to work things out. I worried that he wouldn't come, because of the picture, but I thought he would come anyway."

"And he didn't?"

"No," Abbey replied, desolately. "He didn't."

"I see."

"It has become quite apparent to me that he is no longer interested in repairing what's broken in our marriage. What started out as his fault, has become my fault. Since he doesn't…" Abbey paused as her voice began to break up and she held back her tears. "…want me anymore. He doesn't want me anymore."

She couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Tony watched helplessly while the tears ran down her cheeks. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to her. She accepted it gratefully.

"I'm sorry. Really. I hadn't planned on breaking down like this."

"Don't apologize, Abbey. The breakdown of a marriage is very devastating, and it's difficult to accept. I know. I've been there. But it'll get easier. I promise you. It will."

Abbey nodded, wiping away her tears. She was more determined now.

"Tony, I'd like you to do me a favor."

"Anything."

"Schedule me a meeting with your lawyer. As soon as possible."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Eighteen

Washington, D.C.- White House Briefing Room

"CJ, what time is the President due to leave the White House?"

"The President is scheduled to leave in two hours time. That being said, I expect we'll be out of here in three or four hours."

"How long will the President be staying in London?"

"We're planning on two or three days," CJ replied.

"Will the President be visiting the First Lady?"

"Yes."

Noticing the obvious grin on CJ's face as she answered confidently, the press corps began writing notse down frantically.

"Will the First Lady be returning to Washington with the President?"

"I haven't spoken to the First Lady about this, but there is a distinct possibility that she will, yes."

"Are there any meetings with the Prime Minister scheduled during this trip?"

"Absolutely. The President will be meeting with Prime Minister Blair at least once, maybe more."

"What about Sir Anthony Prescott?"

"What about him?" CJ answered.

"Will the President be meeting with him as well?"

CJ shook her head.

"The President doesn't have any business with Sir Prescott at this time, and has no meetings scheduled. If they should happen to meet socially, that's something else."

"CJ, if Zoey Bartlet returns to Washington with them, will she be bringing Oliver Prescott with her?"

"Zoey has not revealed to me what her plans are as of yet."

"What can you tell us about the relationship between Zoey Bartlet and Oliver Prescott?"

"I don't have any information on that. When I do, I'll let you know. Okay, that's all, folks."

London, England, a few days earlier

It was after midnight when Zoey Bartlet knocked on the door of Oliver Prescott's flat in Knightsbridge. He had settled down on the couch, a bottle of beer in hand, watching the an old episode of Casualty from the '90s, wondering what was going to happen to Jude today.

The power banging on the door made Oliver jump up immediately and sprint to the front hall. He unhooked the chain that locked the door and opened it. Zoey stood before him, mascara smeared around her eyes as if she'd be crying. She pushed past him and sat down on the couch, without a single word. Oliver followed her suspiciously, and sat beside her.

"Zoey. Was there something you wanted to say to me?" Oliver asked, trying to keep from laughing.

"Don't be a jackass, Oliver."

He immediately put on a straight face.

"Okay. What's happened?"

"You know, I used to think my mother was the smartest person in the world."

"And…now she's not?"

"Well, she's not too good at decision-making," Zoey said.

"Explain."

"Do you know where she was today?"

"Uh…no," Oliver answered, honestly.

"You should."

"Why's that?"

"Because she was out with your father all day."

"Zoey, I don't know everything my father does. I'm not his secretary."

"And do you know where he took her?"

Oliver shrugged.

"Buckingham Palace."

"Wrong."

"I give up. Where did he take her?"

"He took her on a visit to his LAWYER!"

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed confusion.

"That doesn't sound very romantic. What the hell did he do that for?"

"She asked him to. Because, apparently, she's lost her mind!" Zoey shouted.  
She stood up and began pacing the floor, back and forth.

"And she told me about it was like it was nothing at all! 'Hey, Zoey, I had some papers drawn up today…' Like it means zilch. Zip. Nada."

"What kind of papers, exactly?" Oliver asked.

Zoey paused, searching her brain.

"I don't know. I ran out of there before she could tell me!"

"Well, maybe it's not what you think."

"Oh, it's what I think, all right!"

"How do you know?"

"I know!"

"How?"

She sat down again, her expression turning into a pout.

"Okay, I don't know. But whatever it is, it's not good. Lawyers are a bad omen."

Oliver laughed.

"This from the girl who wants to enter law school in the fall?"

"That's right!"

"Listen, I think you need to calm down, okay? You don't know what's going on. Don't speculate."

Zoey sighed, miserably.

"Everything's falling apart, Oliver."

He slipped an arm around her shoulers.

"I know. It'll get better. It always does. Give it time."

"Everyone keeps telling me to give it time. Well, I've given it time, and everything's still a mess."

"Some things take longer than others," Oliver pointed out.  
"How long is this going to take then?"

"I don't know," he said. "Awhile, I guess."

Zoey sat up, looking him directly in the eye.

"Are you happy about this?"

"No, I'm not happy that you're unhappy, Zoey. Come on."

"That's not what I mean. I mean about our parents. You're happy they're together, aren't you?"

"I like that my dad's happy. He hasn't been for so long. I'm just…sorry your mother had to be the one to do it."

"What, she's not good enough for him!" Zoey questioned, defensively.

"No! No, I mean, because of the situation. I'm sorry it's so complicated. You know I adore your mother, she's great. But this is just causing everyone pain. I wish it didn't have to be that way."

"You and me both. Oliver, my parents love each other. They really, really do."

Oliver nodded.

"I know. But sometimes…sometimes, love isn't enough."

"That's what my mother said too, weeks ago. I never thought this would still be going on by now. I thought it'd be over."

"What else is bothering you? There's something else."

"I don't know. I'm just…I'm worried about my dad. He's never gonna be able to make it without her."

"Well, if you ask me, he should have thought of that a long time ago."

Washington, D.C.

"You know, Leo, I'd really like to actually leave on time today," Jed said, glancing at his watch.

"Just a few more things to go over and then we can leave, Mr. President," Leo said.

"I have some very important…business to take care of in London, you know."

Leo grinned in return.

"I know, sir. I won't keep you much longer."

The President could barely conceal his excitement. He was finally going to get his wife back. It had been nearly two months since they'd had a proper conversation. Nothing could deter him now. He had a plan.

"Excuse me, Mr. President."

Charlie entered the room, a somber expression on his face. He was carrying a brown manila envelope.

"Charlie, I'm getting ready to leave. What is it?"

Charlie approached the President nervously, clutching the envelope.

"Sir, this was just delivered."

"What is it?" Jed asked, putting on his glasses and taking the envelope from him.

"I don't know, but I was told it was urgent."

Jed opened the envelope and pulled out the papers from inside. Charlie and Leo tried to figure out what the papers said by reading the President's facial expressions, yet it was still unclear. After a few moments, Jed puts the papers down and looked up at his Chief of Staff and personal aide.  
"Sir?"

"Cancel the trip, Leo," Jed said, quietly.

"What!" Leo asked, stunned. "What did the papers say?"

Jed took a deep breath before responding.

"They're separation papers. Abbey would like me to sign them."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Nineteen

Washington, D.C.

"I'm not gonna give it to her," Jed announced, pacing the floor of the Oval Office.

"Sir?" Leo replied from his place in the chair nearby.

"The separation. I'm just not gonna give it to her."

"Mr. President, how do you…"

"I'll just ignore it," Jed said.

"I don't think you can do that, sir."

"Why the hell not? I'm the Commander-in-Chief of the United States Armed Forces. I can do whatever I damn well please!"

"Call her," Leo advised.

"No."

"Call her."

"No, damnit!" Jed exclaimed.

"Then lose her."

Jed stood still for a moment, as the idea slowly registered in his mind. He walked over, talking his time, and sat in his chair across from Leo.

"Where the hell have you been?" Jed remarked, though his tone was hardly challenging. "I've already lost her."

"I don't believe that, sir."

"Abbey does."

"Abbey's hurt. She's disillusioned."

Jed shook his head.

"I don't think so, Leo. Abbey doesn't take her vows lightly. She…wants this. And once she sets her sights on something, you know there'll be hell to pay until she gets it."

Baltimore, Maryland

Dr. Eleanor E. Bartlet stood outside Johns Hopkins research lab, complete with white lab coat, with her cell phone glued to her ear. It was a relatively warm July afternoon and Ellie was dying to go back into the air conditioning, but was now having trouble moving in general.

"You're kidding. You're not kidding? Oh, my God, Mom! A separation? A separation. No, I'm not okay! What do you think! I can't believe you would do this! No. No, Mom! Tell her yourself. You thought I would understandd! Of all people? What is that supposed to mean? I'm supposed to understand that you want to be separated from my father, your husband? Is there someone else? Mom. Is there someone else? I…whatever. Just…whatever. Do what you want. I gotta go."

Ellie flipped her phone shut, dropped it into her coat pocket and stalked off into the building.

Washington, D.C.

"Margaret!" Leo shouted from his office.

Margaret appeared in the doorway a few seconds later.

"Do I have a lunch meeting today?"

"Yeah. You're meeting with Senator Leigh this afternoon."

"Cancel it. Set me up a meeting with the Surgeon General," Leo said.

"Dr. Griffith?"

"That would be her name, yes."

"Can I ask why?"

"No."

"Okay."

London, England

On his way to Zoey's hotel room to pick her up, Oliver Prescott decided to make a stop in front of the next door over. He greeted the agents who stood guard, then cautiously knocked upon it. He waited but a moment before it opened and the First Lady of the United States materialized before his very eyes.

"Oliver," Abbey said, with surprise.

"Good evening, Mrs. Bartlet."

"Zoey's in the next room, you know."

"I know. I came by to see you," Oliver stated.

"Oh. Well…come on in."

Abbey held the door wide open, allowing Oliver to step into the hotel room. She lead the way to the couch and invited him to have a seat, then positioned herself across from him.

"What's on your mind, Oliver?"

"I heard about your…your…"

"Separation," Abbey said.

"Yes. Zoey told me. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am. If there's anything I can do…"

"You can be good to Zoey."

"I fully intend to, ma'am."

"Are you serious about her, Oliver?"

"I like her very, very much."

"She's been through a helluva lot, you know," Abbey said.

"I realize that, Mrs. Bartlet. And I understand."

"Good."

"Mrs. Bartlet, I hope you don't mind me asking this, and you're welcome to take the sixth."

Abbey chuckled.

"The fifth."

"Hmm?"

"The expression. It's take the fifth. The fifth amendement," Abbey explained.

"Ah, right. I suppose that year I spent as an exchange student in Philadelphia didn't do me much good."

"No, I think not." Abbey smiled warmly at the young man. "What did you want to ask me?"

"I…I was just wondering…what made you decide to…have the separation papers drawn up now? That is, opposed to waiting until you return to the States."

"Honestly?"

"Er…yes, ma'am."

"Your father."

Oliver frowned, clearly disappointed.

"Really?"

"Mmm-hmm. He wants…to have a relationship, as I'm sure you know. I'm going to be very frank with you, Oliver. Are you all right with that?" Abbey asked.

"Of course."

"Well, the truth is, I refuse to let your father touch me until my husband signs the papers."

"Why?"

"Because I will not cheat on my husband."

"Well, I think that's very honorable of you, Mrs. Bartlet. But it's still…"

Abbey cleared her throat.

"Don't burst my bubble, Oliver."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Go see Zoey."

"Mrs. Bartlet…"

"I truly do appreciate your concern, Oliver, but…go see Zoey."

"Yes, ma'am."

Washington, D.C.

When Leo McGarry arrived at the Surgeon General's office, he found it bustling with people. In short, it was much busier than anticipated.

"Mr. McGarry"  
Dr. Griffith's assistant stood immediately to greet him.

"Hi. Is this a bad time?"

"No, no. Dr. Griffith is just running a bit behind schedule. She should be with you in just a moment."

"Okay. That's no problem."

Leo only had to wait a few momemts before Dr. Millicent Griffith appeared and lead him into her office.

"To what do I owe the distinct pleasure of your company, Leo?"

"I just thought, 'Hey, haven't seen Millie in awhile,' and…"

"Cut the crap, Leo."

"Why, Dr. Griffith, your indifference offends me," Leo said.

"You want me to harness Abbey, don't you?"

"Why don't we sit down?"

"Don't play hostess in my office, Leo McGarry. We'll sit down when I say."

"Millie, we play for the same team, so quit playing defense here, all right?"

Millie sighed, relenting, and sat down.

"It is Abbey though, isn't it?"

Leo sat down beside her.

"When was the last time you spoke to her?" He asked.

Millie shrugged, absently.

"Awhile. Only a few times since she left for Europe. I called her after the picture seen 'round the world, but she didn't answer and hasn't called me back. What'd she do now?"

"I don't know how to say this."

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad, whatever it is. Abbey's harmless."

"Millie…she's asking the President to sign separation papers."

Millie's jaw dropped in astonishment.

"What?"

"Well, 'asking' being the inoperative word, as they haven't spoken in several weeks."

"I…I assumed that picture was just a misunderstanding. I don't follow. Did something else happen?" Millie said.

"I don't know. The President's just as in the dark as we are about this"  
"So you want me to interrogate Abbey?"

"Not so much interrogate as…investigate," Leo said.

"I don't know, Leo," Millie replied, skeptically.

"Look, I'm the President's best friend and you're the First Lady's. We have to do our part."

"Yeah? Well, why is it that being their best friends is a full-time job?"

"Literally," Leo said, with a smirk.

London, England

"Abigail Bartlet, are you out of your mind!"

"Nice to see you too, Millicent."

Abbey barely glanced up as the Surgeon General boisterously invaded her hotel room. Millie dropped her suitcases by the door and approached her best f riend, who was comfortably seated on the couch. Millie stood in front of her until Abbey finally looked up and acknowledged her presence.

"A separation," Millie stated, in disbelief. "A separation!"

Abbey sighed.

"Who told you?"

Millie pursed her lips and looked in the other direction.

"Zoey called you, didn't she?"

"She was just trying to help, Abbey."

"Yeah, but help who? That's the million dollar question."

Millie's expression turned sympathetic as she moved to sit beside Abbey on the couch.

"What happened?" Millie asked.

"What didn't happen?"

"You tell me."

"I'm angry at him, Millie. I am so…angry at him!" Abbey exclaimed.

"About the Shareef thing still?"

"Yes! No. Yes…no, I don't know. It's all gotten so out of hand. I have no idea why I'm angry at him, I just know I'm angry."

"And that's what was going through your head when you met with the lawyer?"

Abbey shrugged.

"That must have been it."

"Abbey…it wasn't Zoey who called me," Millie admitted.

"What?"

"It was Leo."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Twenty

Manchester, New Hampshire

Elizabeth Bartlet Westin paced her kitchen floor angrily, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her husband, Doug, sat at the table, watching her sheepishly. Finally, her feet came to a halt in front of him and he glanced up as her eyes stared him back down.

"Come on, Liz…"

"Don't 'Come on, Liz' me, Douglas Westin!" Liz snapped back.

"It's not that big a deal," Doug insisted.

"It's a college party, Doug. Don't you get that? You let me fifteen-year-old daughter go to a college party!"

"Well, she…"

"Do you remember what those are like?" Liz inquired.

"I…"

"Alcohol. Drugs. Sex. And lots of it."

Doug chuckled.

"That part I remember."

"Wrong thing to say there, buddy," Elizabeth replied.

"What I want to know is, why you're just down here yelling at me instead of upstairs yelling at Annie."

"Because YOU told her she could…"

Her sentence was cut short by the sound of the telephone ringing. Liz groaned, and Doug grinned.

"Saved by the bell."

Liz marched over to the phone, not without shooting a challenging glare at her husband, and picked it up.

"Hello? Oh. Hey, Mom. Hold on a sec, will ya?" Liz put her head over the mouthpiece as she spoke in a whisper to her husband. "Out!"

Doug didn't hesitate in submitting to her order and quickly made his exit from the kitchen. On his way out, he ran into his five-year-old son, Gus, who was clad in pajamas and slippers.

"Hey there, bud. Shouldn't you be in bed?" Doug asked.

"I just want some water."

"Ok. Mom's in the kitchen, hon. She'll score you some."

"Kay," Gus replied, trudging into the kitchen quietly.

When he saw that his mother was on the phone, Gus instinctively knew not to disturb her. He sat in the corner, and waited for her to finish.

"Have I heard what? No, Ellie left me a voicemail earlier but I haven't been able to get back to her yet. Yeah, just a minor problem with Annie. Or Doug, as the case may be. What's going on? Mom, just say it. I'm a big girl. I can handle it. Mom! You're scaring me. What is it?"

Gus frowned at hearing this. It frightened him to see his mother nervous and frazzled.

"You're leaving Daddy? For good? No. Please tell me you're joking. Mom! Tell me you're joking! You can't…do this. I don't understand. I knew you two were having problems, but this…no! Just no. I am not acting like a child, Mother. I can't believe this! Separation papers, my ass!"

Gus' eyes widened at the swear word, but he remained perfectly silent.

"He's your husband! You can't just…Mom! I don't give a shit about goddamn Nobility Man, or whatever the hell his name is. How could you do this? There are things I don't understand? Yeah, well then, explain it to me. Uh huh. Mmm-hmm. No! Damnit, Mom! I am not being hostile. Fine, go. Go and food around with your British boy toy. Yeah. All right. Yeah, I love you too. Bye."

Liz slammed the phone down onto the cradle. She whipped around, her gaze falling to her youngest child, sitting alone in the corner with tear-stained cheeks. He locked eyes with her for a moment, then jumped up and scurried quickly out of the kitchen.

"Gus!"

Liz called after him, but it was too late. He had already retreated upstairs and she was far too aggravated to go after him.

Washington, D.C.

The senior staff had been called into Leo McGarry's office rather suddenly. They had put meetings and important phone calls on hold to gather in the middle of the day. However, just before they arrived, Leo had been called down to the Situation Room. Margaret insisted he wouldn't be long, but one never could really tell.

"Why do I feel like we're about to be bombed by the First Lady?" Josh said.  
"We've been bombed by the First Lady about ten times in the last two weeks," Toby said. "I think she's moving in for nuclear warfare."

"So we should watch out for plutonium then," Sam said.

"Has she always been this much trouble?" Will asked.

"Yes," the senior staff answered at once.

"Nancy Reagan she is not," Josh stated.

"She's more…Jackie Kennedy meets Eleanor Roosevelt meets…Marie-Antoinette," Sam said.

"Let's be fair," CJ interjected. "She's not trouble all the time."

"Only every other day," Toby replied.

"Up until two weeks ago, the First Lady's approval rating surpassed the President's by twenty percent," Amy announced upon her entrance to the office. "And I intend to get it back up there by the end of the month, too."

"What are you doing here?" Josh asked.

"Margaret called, and said Leo wanted to see me."

"Well, that confirms my suspicions," Toby said.

"What?" CJ asked.

"This meeting's about the First Lady."

"Did you doubt it?" Sam asked.

"Only for one fleeting, joyous moment."

"What more could she possibly do?" Will wondered.

His question was met with dubious stares that implied that there was a great deal more that the First Lady could accomplish.

"Okay, I'd like to retract that statement from the record."

"Good call, Will," Sam said.

"I think we should remember the good times," CJ said.

"There have been good times?" Josh questioned, sardonically.

"Yes! With Mrs. Bartlet. It hasn't been all bad."

"Right, because the whole thing with the beta seron was really good for re-election," Toby replied.

"And the tie-cutting incident. Loved that," Josh agreed.

"I'm serious! There have been plenty of good times!" CJ said. "Remember the party she threw for Dr. Griffith's birthday three years ago?"

They all smiled at the memory.

"Yeah, okay, that was good," Josh said.

"And her interview with Diane Sawyer last year," Sam added. "That was brilliant."

"And as much as we hate to admit it, she handled the MS thing like a pro," CJ said.

"She was a pro," Toby pointed out.

"She IS a pro!" Amy exclaimed. "She's a damn good First Lady. And she's been nothing but wonderful and gracious to all of you since the campaign. She has taken you into her home and made you a part of her family. And I think she'd be pretty upset to know that you guys sat around gossiping about her like this. So knock it off!"

"All right. Amy's yelling and nobody's arguing with her. What's going on!"

Leo said, walking into his office.

"Everything's fine," Amy said. "I was just setting them straight on a few points."

"Good."

Leo walked around to his desk and dropped some papers down. He looked at each member of his staff carefully, as a form of procrastination.

"I'm sure you've all realized that I've called you here to discuss the First Lady."

"Yeah, we got that the moment Amy walked into the room," Josh answered.

"I know none of you are particularly thrilled with the events of late, or with the First Lady in general. But as of this moment, your jobs just got a little harder."

"Yeah, we figured there was a reason the London trip got canceled. And we figured we wouldn't like it quite so much," Sam said.

"Yesterday afternoon, some…papers were delivered to the President as per the First Lady's request," Leo began.

"What kind of papers?" CJ asked.

"Separation papers."

"You're kidding," Josh said.

"Is this…some kind of really bad joke?" Will questioned.

"You can't be serious, Leo," CJ said.

"If there ever was a moment I wanted to be hazed, this is it," Amy said.

"Yeah. Looks like Christmas came early this year," Leo answered, sarcastically.

"Leo…" Toby said.

"Look, I'd like to give you all raises, and I'm sure you'll deserve them after all of this is over, but that's just not gonna happen. I want you to keep in mind that while this is a pain in the ass for us, it's not exactly a walk in the park for the First Couple either."

"Leo, has the President signed the papers?" Sam asked.

"Not yet."

"Is he…okay?" CJ wondered.

"He's adjusting."

"Okay. How do we handle this?" Toby inquired.

"I don't know," Leo answered, quietly.

"Leo, we need to develop some kind of strategy to…" Josh trailed off.

"Josh, my best friend's wife just left him, officially. That's all I can comprehend right now. I don't want to develop a stragety, and I don't want to think about handling this just yet. We're gonna keep it quiet for awhile, until the President decides what he wants to do."

"You don't want me to tell the press?" CJ said.

"Not now."

"You don't think it's gonna get out on its own somehow?"

"Not unless the First Lady's out there advertising it," Leo replied.

"Wouldn't surprise me a bit," Toby said to himself.

Manchester, New Hampshire

Gus Westin creeped carefully on his tip toes through the hallway upstairs in the direction of his sister's bedroom. He approached the door and knocked on it lightly. When no one acknowledged him, he opened the door himself and walked in. He found Annie lying on her bed, reading a magazine with the radio on.

"Gus! How many times have I asked you to knock first?" Annie complained.

"I did!"

"Oh. Well, what do you want?"

"Mommy's mad."

Annie rolled her eyes.

"What'd you do now, Gus?"

"Nothing! She was on the phone with Grandma," Gus said.

"Did Grandma make her mad?"

Annie sat up. This was certainly getting interesting.

"I think."

"Well, what happened?"

"Mommy said…bad words."

"Really!"

Gus nodded.

"And she said, 'You're leaving Daddy?'"

Annie's eyes widened in shock.

"Oh, my God."

"What?" Gus asked.

"Grandpa, Gus! She means Grandpa. Grandma's leaving Grandpa."

Gus frowned, clearly confused.

"Where's she going?"

"No, she…she doesn't want to be married to him anymore."

"What?" Gus asked again.

"Um…" Annie tried to think of the best way to explain the situation to her little brother. "Grandma…doesn't want to live with Grandpa anymore."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. What else did you hear Mom say?"

"Um…separotin papers."

"Separation papers?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh, no."

"What's that?" Gus wondered.

"Um, they make it ok for Grandma to leave Grandpa, if he signs them."

"What if he doesn't sign them?"

"Then…I don't know," Annie replied.

As Gus tried to comprehend this, his eyes began to fill with tears.

"Doesn't Grandma love him anymore?"

"I don't know, Gus. I thought she did. But maybe…now she doesn't."

"What about us? Does she love us still?"

Annie nodded, fervently.

"Grandma will always love us. So will Grandpa."

"But if they love us, why can't they love each other too?"

"Maybe they do."

"Then why don't they wanna be together?" Gus asked.

Annie shrugged and flashed him a crooked smile.

"I wish I knew."

Washington, D.C.

Since getting word of the First Couple's separation, Amy Gardner had been hard at work. She was determined to keep her boss' head above water. She wasn't going to go down without a fight. Abbey Bartlet's numbers already were down to thirty-eight percent, and had dropped twenty points since she left for Europe. Directly following Zoey's kidnapping, her numbers had risen from their usual place in the mid-sixties to all the way to eighty-four percent, but had almost instantly dropped after her departure from Washington. Once the news of the separation was announced to the public, Amy knew it would only get worse, and possibly take her down into the teens. And Amy would have none of that.

President Bartlet had been wandering the halls aimlessly for awhile, trying to make sense of recent events. When he passed Amy Gardner's office and heard her typing away, he decided to pay her a little visit.

When Amy noticed him, she quickly stood and smoothed out her suit nervously.

"Mr…Mr. President."

Jed motioned for her to return to her seat, but Amy remained standing regardless.

"We're doing pretty well on violence prevention."

"Yes, sir."

"They were going to gut it. The First Lady really turned it around," Jed stated.

"Yes, sir, she did."

"You've done well cleaning up her mess and looking after her. I imagine it wasn't easy."

"Thank you, sir. But I know I can do more," Amy said.

"More?"

"I'm mulling over a few ideas to bring Mrs. Bartlet's numbers back up, especially after news of the separation breaks."

"Ideas?"

"Yes, sir."

"Nah, I'm not gonna have Abbey jump through hoops," Jed said.

"Sir, due respect, but I'm not going to sit idly by while my boss is trashed all over the news."

"It's not your job to help my wife save her face, Amy."

"I think it is, sir. In this case, I think it is."

"Well, I think you're wrong. And if you persue this, I think you're gonna find out that I'm right."

"It's what she'd want, sir."

"My wife is not a budget appropriation. She's not a line. Don't put words in her mouth. Don't treat her like she's your blank checkbook."

"That's not my intention, sir, and I apologize if that's the way it comes off."

"Amy, my wife and I are going to have enough going on without you…"

All at once, Jed lost his train of thought. He closed his eyes and tried to shake off the feeling of lightheadedness that had taken him over.

"Mr. President?"

"Uh…yeah."

"Are you all right, sir?" Amy asked.

Before Jed could answer and insist that he was fine, he was struck with an all too familiar feeling in his thigh. His heart began to race and his face turned bright red.

"Oh, my God," Amy whispered.

"No, no. Don't…worry. I'll be fine in just a second," Jed lied through clenched teeth.

Amy shook her head and flew over to her desk, practically pouncing on the phone.

"I'm calling the doctor."

She dialed the number and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for someone to pick up. When she glanced up for a moment, her eyes caught the sight of the President of the United States falling to the ground, unconscious.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty-One

Washington, D.C.

CJ Cregg had been the closest. She was on her way to Amy Gardner's office to discuss a few things about the First Lady, related to her next press briefing. Walking through the hallways, she watched with shock as numerous agents plowed past her, followed by the President's doctor on duty. The crowd ran into Amy's office and CJ instinctively followed them. The President was lying on the floor, barely conscious. CJ's hand involuntarily moved to cover her open mouth, as she quickly moved to stand beside Amy, who had formed quite the same position.

"What happened?" CJ whispered.

"I don't know. He just…collapsed."

"Well, what brought it on?"

"We were…arguing about the First Lady," Amy explained.

CJ nodded, knowingly.

"That'll do it. Has anyone called Leo yet?"

"I called him a moment ago. He's on his way."

"Okay."

CJ gazed down at her president sympathetically, fighting back tears. She hated seeing him this way. So helpless and delicate. Hardly the force of nature she was used to. His eyes fluttered open and roamed around aimlessly, clearly disoriented. After a moment, his gaze fell on her and stayed there.

"CJ," Jed whispered.

"Mr. President, you shouldn't talk," his doctor advised him.

CJ kneeled down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"CJ…get…Abbey."

"Sir?"

"Abbey," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

CJ looked up just as Leo ran into the office frantically.

"What happened?"

"He fainted, but he's conscious now, Mr. McGarry. We do need to get him up to bed though."

"Leo…" Jed said.

"Don't talk, sir. Just rest."

"Abbey…need Abbey."

"Shh."

When Leo proved to be no help, Jed turned back to CJ.

"CJ, please."

"I'm so sorry, Mr. President," CJ whispered, helplessly.

Her heart was breaking. She wondered if the President had momentarily forgotten about the separation. One thing was clear- he was a man desperate for his wife, not only physically, but emotionally.

London, England

Millicent Griffith and Zoey Bartlet sat still on the couch in Abbey's hotel room. Neither of them had spoken a word in several minutes. They exchanged apprehensive glances, and then turned back to the angry woman who was pacing the floor in front of them.

"I don't believe this!"

"Now, Abbey…" Millie said.

"You'd think he would know by now."

"Mom…" Zoey said.

"Forty years I've known this man! And in forty years, he hasn't changed," Abbey said.

"You can't blame him, Abbey."

"The hell I can't!"

"Mom, really, you can't blame him for wanting to help," Zoey said.

"Yes, I can. I most certainly can," Abbey replied. "Leo knows EXACTLY how I feel about meddling and matchmaking, or whatever the hell you want to call it. And yet he's gone and done it anyway."

"If you want to blame someone, blame me," Millie said.

"Oh, I do. I just blame him more."

"Abbey, come on."

"Why are you sticking up for him, Millie?"

"Because I know how he feels! I'm in the exact same position," Millie answered.

"You're sleeping with him, aren't you?"

"Mom!" Zoey scolded her.

"Jesus, Abbey. What is wrong with you!"

Abbey placed a hand to her forehad and became massaging her temples in a circular motion.

"I don't know," she replied, softly. "I'm sorry."

She sat down in the chair across from Millie and Zoey and dropped her head into her hands.

"Mom…you're making a much bigger deal out of this than it is. Leo was just trying to help. Maybe he didn't go about it in the best of ways, but you can't blame him for trying."

"And I didn't come here just because Leo suggested it," Millie said. "I came here because I'm your best friend. Obviously you're going through a tough time. And what kind of friend would I be if I just ignored the whole situation?"

"That's what Jenny's doing," Abbey said.

"Well, Jenny's just got her head up her ass right now. Her and her damn wedding. She's lost sight of what it means to be a good friend. And she'll regret it later, just you wait. When you and I ditch her wedding, she'll regret it."

Abbey narrowed her eyes in the direction of her friend.

"Do I detect a note of hosility toward a certain Jennifer McGarry, Millie?"

"No!" Millie answered, quickly. "No, I was just…"

"You've got a thing for Leo," Abbey said, a smile playing on her lips.

"Mom, that's sick," Zoey complained.

"Thank you for that, Zoey," Millie said.

Zoey shrugged in response.

"I do not have a thing for Leo."

"Yes, you do," Abbey insisted. "Leo and Millie sitting in a tree…"

"In the name of all that is holy, please do not finish that song," Millie begged.

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Zoey exclaimed.

"Oh, God."

"You know what I'm gonna do?" Abbey said.

"I have a feeling I'm going to regret asking this, but…what?" Millie said.

"I'm gonna call him."

"Who?"

"Leo."

Baltimore, Maryland

Shortly after the President's collapse, Amy Gardner had phoned Ellie Bartlet to inform her of the father's present condition. Since that moment, Ellie had debated about calling him. She hadn't spoken to him since the separation, and she wasn't sure what she would say to him when it came up. This was the first time in a long time that Ellie was on her father's side about something, as opposed to her mother's. For once, the tables were turned. Ellie and Elizabeth were normally the ones siding with their mother, and Zoey would usually side with their father. Now it seemed that Ellie and Liz were sympathizing with Jed, and Zoey with Abbey. The sudden reversal made Ellie uneasy.

Not only that, but she had something else she needed to tell him. And she wasn't sure it was the right time. But she couldn't keep it from him any longer.

"Hi, Debbie. It's Ellie. I need to speak to my father, is he busy?"

"Hi there, Ellie. He's in the Residence lying down. Would you like me to connect you?"

"Yes, please."

"Allrighty, one second then."

"Thank you."

Ellie waited a few moments before the phone began ringing again, and she waited for her father to pick up.

"Yeah?"

"Hi, Dad," she said, softly.

"Eleanor. How are you?"

"Not me, Dad. How are YOU doing?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart," Jed said.

"When Amy called me, I was so worried. I thought maybe…"

"It was nothing huge, El. I should be up and about by tomorrow."

Ellie laughed.

"Wreaking havoc as usual."

"That's right. Ellie…listen, I'm sorry I haven't called you about the…thing. I assume your mother told you about it," Jed said.

"Yeah. She told me."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm okay. It's a little weird, but I'm okay. What about you?" Ellie questioned, with concern.

"I'll be fine," Jed replied, tersely.

"Dad, it's me. You don't have to put up a front."

"I'm not putting up a front, Eleanor. In fact, I'm very confident."

"Confident?"

"Yes."

"Why confident?"

"Because I know I'll get her back."

"Dad…"

"Don't fight me on this, Ellie. I'll get her back."

"Whatever you say," Ellie replied. "But, um, there's…something else I need to talk to you about."

"Yeah? What?"

"I'm not sure this is the right time, but…"

"What is it?"

"Well. You remember Mark Schaefer, don't you?"

"I certainly do. Tall fellow, dark hair. Psychologist?"

"Psychiatrist," Ellie corrected him.

"Yes, that's right. What of him?"

"Well, he…proposed last week."

"Really!"

"Yeah. And…I said yes."

"This is great news," Jed said.

"You really think so? I was afraid you'd be upset."

"Why would I be upset?"

"No offense, Dad, but you get upset if a guy even looks at us."

"Well, this Mark is an upstanding citizen, is he not?" Jed questioned.

"He is."

"He's got a stable career, does he not?"

"He does."

"And he loves you, does he not?"

Ellie smiled.

"He does."

"Then congratulations, Mrs. Schaefer. You have my blessing."

Washington, D.C.

"I'm fine, Leo."

"Mr. President, you are not fine. I want you to stay in bed."

Jed rolled his eyes and threw off the covers.

"You heard what the doctor said. It was just minor."

"That is not what the doctor said and you know it. Now get back into bed unless you want me to the call the Surgeon General."

"She'd put me in my place," Jed said.

"Yes, sir, I believe she would."

"I should probably talk to Millie at some point though, right?"

"Well, yeah. That'd probably be helpful seeing as, ya know, she's the chief medical practicioner of the United States," Leo answered.

"You know, I'm thinking I should fire Millie and appoint Ellie to the position," Jed said, laughing.

"Nothing like good ole nepotism."

"Yeah, that's what I always say."

"Excuse me, Leo?"

Margaret opened the door a crack and poked her head into the President's bedroom.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, but you have a phone call on line two."

"Is it important?" Leo asked.

"I think you'll want to take this, yeah."

"Thank you. I'll take it in the next room."

Leo relocated himself into the next room and sat down by the phone. He braced himself before answering it. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like this call.

"This is Leo."

"Hi, Leo," Abbey said, with fake cheeriness in her voice.

"Abbey. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"You're damn right you are."

"Abbey…"

"Who the hell do you think you are, Leo?"

"Now, wait one…"

"Where do you get off meddling in other peoples' lives?" Abbey questioned, angrily.

"It's my job to…"

"It is NOT your job to involve yourself in the President's personal affairs!"

"It's MY job to make sure the President can focus on doing HIS job!" Leo retorted.

"This has nothing to do with his job!"

"The hell it doesn't! The man can't even see clearly, let alone do his job!"

Abbey paused, trying to comprehend Leo's words.

"What?"

Leo immediately regretted saying anything at all.

"Nothing."

"Leo," Abbey said, sternly.

"It's nothing, Abbey."

"Is he having an episode?"

"No."

"God damnit, Leo, tell me the truth."

With his back to the door, it was no wonder Leo did not notice when the President entered the room.

"He's fine, Abbey. He just collapsed earlier, but he's going to be fine."

Jed cleared his throat, causing Leo to jump and nearly drop the phone. Jed gestured for Leo to hand him the phone. Acknowledging his hesitance to do so, Jed nodded resassuringly. Leo slowly leaned over and wordlessly handed the phone to his boss. Leo sat back in the chair and observed nervously as Jed placed the phone to his ear. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, relishing in the sound of Abbey's breathing at the end of the line.

"Abbey."

She gasped softly, startled at hearing his voice.

"Jed?"


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Abbey."

She gasped softly, startled at hearing his voice.

"Jed?"

He cleared his throat before speaking, trying to rid the emotion that he knew would lace his voice so obviously.

"How are you?" Jed asked, casually.

Abbey was genuinely surprised by the nonchalance. That's what he had to say to her? 'How are you'? She would have been grateful for a 'What the hell is going on!' But she took it in stride and matched his nonchalance.

"Just fine. How are you? I heard that you…" She trailed off, knowing he would be able to interpret her ambiguity.

"Yeah. It was no big deal."

"You're all right then?"

This time she wasn't able to hide the concern in her voice, and she knew he noticed it. He was sincerely touched by it, but his determination not to let it show prevailed.

"I'm fine."

"Do you want me to…"

"No. There's nothing you can do."

"Well, I could…"

"Listen," Jed said, loudly, overlapping her usually timid and weak voice. "The reason I had Leo put you on the phone. I heard Millie was with you. It's important that I speak with her. Could you put her on the phone please?"

He was touched by her concern, but at the same time, it angered him. If she so obviously cared for him, why had she done this? Why had she sacrificed their marriage? It seemed downright hypocritical to Jed. As much as he loved her, he couldn't let her walk all over him. Jed Bartlet may be a whipped man, but he's not spineless either.

This caught Abbey completely off-guard. Her husband's cold, aloof tone sent chills down her spine. This wasn't the same man she had left over a month ago. She was responsible for it. She had thought, even if only for a fraction of a second, that she was ready for a reconciliation. She had considered telling him to rip up the separation papers, that she was coming home on the next plane. But not now. No. He had shown her that a reconciliation was not an option anymore. He didn't want her.

"I…" She couldn't object. She would have to comply without question, unperturbed. "Of course. I'll just go get her."

"Thanks," Jed replied, gruffly.

Abbey carefully placed the phone down on the table and stood still for a moment, reflecting on the past minute or two. Opportunity had just knocked on her door, and she had ignored it. And when it knocked on Jed's, he simply told it to go away. She shook herself out of her reverie and walked into the next room, where her daughter and her best friend were waiting.

"Millie."

They both looked up and saw her standing in the doorway, looking a little stunned.

"How'd it go?"

"He'd like to speak to you."

"Who? Leo?"

"No," Abbey replied. "Jed."

London, England

"Guys, I'm just going down the hall," Zoey Bartlet said, gesturing for her agents to stay put.

She walked briskly around the eleventh floor of the hotel, with her cell phone pressed to her ear.

"Come on, Liz, answer. Answer!" She whispered, urgently.

"Hello?"

Close enough. Not Liz, but Annie.

"Hi, Annie."

"Aunt Zoey!"

"How are you, honey?" Zoey asked.

"I'm okay. How are you?"

"Fine. Listen, I'd love to talk with you but I really need to discuss something with your mother. Is she around?"

"Yeah, hold on I'll get her," Annie said.

"Thanks."

"Aunt Zoey?"

"Yeah."

"What's going on with Grandma and Grandpa?"

"Um, I think you'd better ask your mom about that, Annie."

"Fine. Hold on."

Zoey waited, rather impatient at that, for a minute or two before her oldest sister picked up the phone.

"Zoey?"

"Liz."

"What's going on? You sound terrible," Elizabeth observed.

"Thanks for that. And I'd like to ask you the same thing."

"What?"

"What the hell's going on there!" Zoey exclaimed.

"What are you talking about?"

"Mom just got off the phone with Dad, and now she's in her room and won't speak to anyone!"

"Wait a second. Whoa there. Mom and Dad…talked? Like, to each other? On the phone?"

"Yes! Next thing I knew, she was putting Millie on the phone and locking herself in her room. Tell me what happened."

"Zoey, just because I'm in the U.S. doesn't mean I know what's going on everywhere in the country. I'm in Manchester, remember? Dad's in Washington."

"Oh. Right. I'm sorry. I just…I don't know. I don't understand what's going on."

"You didn't hear them talking?"

"Millie and I were in the next room. Mom called to talk to Leo, and apparently Leo put Dad on the phone," Zoey explained.

"And then he wanted to talk to Millie."

"Yes."

"Well, damn," Liz muttered.

"That's what you have to say?"

"Yeah. What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know."

"How are things with Oliver?"

"Liz!" Zoey exclaimed.

"What!"

"I have to go call Ellie. She's left me about five voicemails in the last two days."

"You haven't spoken to her!" Liz said.

"No…"

"Well…good luck."

"Why?"

"Ellie's got some…news for ya, sis."

"Great."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Three

Washington, D.C.- Leo McGarry's Office

"Josh, just don't make it a bigger deal than it is. When you meet with Congressman Lawrence today, explain the situation and let him know the White House isn't prepared to negotiate about this," Leo advised.

"Lawrence doesn't take no for an answer," Josh answered.

"He doesn't have a choice."

"Leo…"

"Make your point and then get out, Josh."

"Yeah. Okay. I'm going."

Josh stood from his chair, moved toward the door and jumped back when it swung open and hitting him in the head. Margaret poked her head in, embarassed.

"Sorry about that."

"Yeah, it's okay. Just…almost killed me, but we're good now," Josh said.

"That's a shame. Leo."

"What's up, Margaret?"

"The Surgeon General is here," Margaret said.

"She's back from London?"

"She got in this morning."

"Send her in," Leo said.

"Okay, now I'm really leaving," Josh said, hurriedly.

"Coward."

"Adios."

On his way out, Josh ran right into Millie.

"Dr. Griffith!"

"Joshua."

"You're looking well."

"You look like you just ran into a door," Millie said, with a smirk.

"I didn't run into…oh, forget it. I'm leaving."

"Godspeed."

"Yeah, yeah."

Millie smiled and rolled her eyes, then walked into Leo's office.

"Welcome back," Leo said.

"Thank you," Millie replied, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

"How was London?"

"It was…British."

"Yeah, I've heard that."

"How's the President?" Millie asked.

"Much better. He's back on his feet."

"I'll check in with his doctor before I leave."

"Okay. Listen…how's Abbey?"

"How do you think she is, Leo?"

"That bad, huh?" Leo said.

"I don't know. She goes from weak and vulnerable to angry and vindictive. One minute she's wallowing in self-pity and the next minute she's muttering obscenities under her breath."

"The President's the same way. In your opinion, what's her next move?"

"Abbey's?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I don't think she was too happy about showing him her concern and then being brushed off. He really hurt her when he asked to speak to me," Millie said.

"Yeah, well, she really hurt him when she, ya know, sent him separation papers."

"Judging by her actions of late, I'd say she's not quite finished yet."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you she's been feeling…vindictive. For lack of a better word, as that does sound relatively harsh. She's probably going to want to get back at him for that."

"For what?" Leo asked.

"For brushing her off in her moment of weakness."

"Hasn't she done enough?"

"I think so, you think so, anyone with half a brain thinks so, but…if you ask me, this is just gonna keep going on. Back and forth. This is war, Leo. And we're the POWs."

"Great," Leo replied, unenthusiasically.

"We have to do something."

"We're already tried, Millie. And I got bitched at because of it."

"It's obvious they both want to be together, they're just too damn stubborn to be honest with each other," Millie said.

"Don't you think I know that?"

"Well…"

"There's nothing we can do now."

"You're giving up?"

"I'm giving in," Leo said. "They have to find their way to each other, by themselves. Plus, neither one of us is an expert on marriage."

"Mere skeletons in the closet, Leo."

"I think it's more than that, Millie."

"Between both of our marriages, we've got about sixty-five years of holy matrimony behind us," Millie pointed out.

"Yeah…that's not the same thing."

"Sixty-five years of marriage, Leo."

"And six years of divorce."

"Don't be a Negative Nancy."

Leo tried to suppress his laughter, unsucessfully.

"A Negative Nancy?"

"Yeah. Negative Nancy, Debbie Downer…you know."

"Notice they're both women," Leo pointed out.

"Oh, bite me, would you?"

"Since you bring that up…"

"What?" Millie asked.

"I wanted to ask you, and you're under no obligation to say yes, but…how would you feel about…going to dinner sometime?"

Millie burst out laughing, instantly deflating Leo's ego.

"Why are you laughing at me?"

"I said bite me and you thought 'hey, let's go out to dinner'!"

"Well, I figured it was a long shot, but…"

"I'd love to," Millie said.

"What?"

"I'd love to have dinner with you."

"You would," Leo said, more a queston than a statement.

"Well, let's not make a talk show out of it!"

"I'm sorry, I just didn't think you'd say yes."

"Why!"

"Because…you hate me."

"I don't hate you. I've never hated you. I just enjoy arguing with you."

"Oh."

"And then there was the thing where you forgot your anniversary and caused one of my closet friends to divorce you. And out of loyalty, I resented you. That's the way it works."

"Well…"

"You did the same thing to me when Scott and I called it quits."

"That was different," Leo said.

"Why?"

"You cheated on him!"

"Because he cheated on me!" Millie exclaimed.

"You can't prove that. It was just a suspicion which, by the way, was never confirmed."

"Oh, bullshit, Leo."

"So. How's tonight at eight?"

London, England

"How are you?" Sir Anthony Prescott asked. "I haven't spoken to you since you met with my lawyer."

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that. Things got a little complicated. My best friend flew in, unexpected," Abbey answered.

"I read in the paper that the Surgeon General was in London as well."

Abbey smiled at his naivete.

"The Surgeon General is my best friend."

"Oh. Well, that makes perfect sense then."

"She left yesterday."

"Oliver mentioned he hadn't seen much of Zoey either," Tony said.

"The three of us have spent a lot of time together over the past week. Millie's like family," Abbey explained.

Tony nodded.

"So. How has the President reacted to the papers? I haven't read a thing about it."

"I don't know. He had an episode a few days ago…"

"The MS?"

"Yes. I have a sneaking suspicion that it was the separation papers that brought it on, and I've been feeling horribly guilty."

"You have nothing to feel guilty about. You couldn't have known."

"I don't know," Abbey said, softly. "Maybe you're right."

"Has he signed them?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Is he planning to?" Tony questioned.

"I don't know that either."

"Then I don't suppose you want to attend a major function with me, hmm?"

"Depends," Abbey replied, coyly. "Which major function would that be?"

"A garden party at Buckingham Palace."

"Would this include, say, a conversation with the Queen?"

"You could say that. A few conversations possibly."

"Oooh. Well, that is intriguing."

"What do you say?" Tony asked.

"Will there be photographers and friends of my husband's attending this party?"

"It's very likely," he said, honestly, expecting her to decline him.

"Then I'm in."

Washington, D.C.- the Oval Office

President Bartlet sat at his desk, holding the phone to his ear, and doodling on a post-it. The Secretary of Agriculture had been rambling for about ten minutes. The last thing Jed remember hearing was the word 'corn,' at which point he picked up his pen and began drawing various shapes on paper. He looked up when his secretary entered the Oval Office without knocking- something she rarely did.

"Mr. President."

Jed placed his hand over the phone to keep the man on the other line from hearing him.

"Debbie, I'm on with the Secretary of Agriculture."

"I know, sir, and I'm sorry to bother you, but this is important," Debbie said.  
"What is it?" Jed asked, concerned.

"Annie and Gus are here."

"Really. Elizabeth didn't mention she was coming to DC."

"She didn't. She's not with them."

"What do you mean?"

"She's not with them. I mean, she's not here. And before you ask, neither is Doug. In fact, the kids are…unaccompanied."

"Good Lord," Jed whispered, then removed his hand from the phone. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Secretary, but I'm going to have to call you back. Something's come up. Yes. Yes. Thank you. Goodbye."

He placed the phone down on the receiver and stood up.

"Bring 'em in, Debbie."

"Yes, sir."

Jed tried to relax himself before seeing his grandchildren, as he always did. He wanted them to think of him more as their grandfather than as their president. Annie and Gus followed Debbie into the office.

"Hi, Grandpa," they both said at once.

"I'll be just outside if you need me, sir," Debbie said, excusing herself.

"Thank you, Debbie."

He approached his grandchildrenslowly, studying their expressions.

"Please tell me that someone is here with you. Some responsible adult who accompanied you here with your mother's permission."

"Don't be mad, Grandpa. It was really important that we see you, and Mom said she couldn't take us and…" Annie tried to explain.

"Save it, Annie. We'll talk about this in a minute. Sit down on the couch while I call your mother and let her know you're all right. She's probably going out of her mind."

"But…"

"On the couch, Anne. Now."

"Josh, just don't make it a bigger deal than it is. When you meet with Congressman Lawrence today, explain the situation and let him know the White House isn't prepared to negotiate about this," Leo advised. "Lawrence doesn't take no for an answer," Josh answered.  
"He doesn't have a choice"  
"Leo"  
"Make your point and then get out, Josh"  
"Yeah. Okay. I'm going"  
Josh stood from his chair, moved toward the door and jumped back when it swung open and hitting him in the head. Margaret poked her head in, embarassed.  
"Sorry about that"  
"Yeah, it's okay. Just…almost killed me, but we're good now," Josh said. "That's a shame. Leo"  
"What's up, Margaret"  
"The Surgeon General is here," Margaret said.  
"She's back from London"  
"She got in this morning"  
"Send her in," Leo said.  
"Okay, now I'm really leaving," Josh said, hurriedly.  
"Coward"  
"Adios"  
On his way out, Josh ran right into Millie.  
"Dr. Griffith"  
"Joshua"  
"You're looking well"  
"You look like you just ran into a door," Millie said, with a smirk.  
"I didn't run into…oh, forget it. I'm leaving"  
"Godspeed"  
"Yeah, yeah"  
Millie smiled and rolled her eyes, then walked into Leo's office.  
"Welcome back," Leo said.  
"Thank you," Millie replied, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.  
"How was London"  
"It was…British"  
"Yeah, I've heard that"  
"How's the President?" Millie asked.  
"Much better. He's back on his feet"  
"I'll check in with his doctor before I leave"  
"Okay. Listen…how's Abbey"  
"How do you think she is, Leo"  
"That bad, huh?" Leo said.  
"I don't know. She goes from weak and vulnerable to angry and vindictive. One minute she's wallowing in self-pity and the next minute she's muttering obscenities under her breath"  
"The President's the same way. In your opinion, what's her next move"  
"Abbey's"  
"Yeah"  
"Well, I don't think she was too happy about showing him her concern and then being brushed off. He really hurt her when he asked to speak to me," Millie said.  
"Yeah, well, she really hurt him when she, ya know, sent him separation papers"  
"Judging by her actions of late, I'd say she's not quite finished yet"  
"What do you mean"  
"I told you she's been feeling…vindictive. For lack of a better word, as that does sound relatively harsh. She's probably going to want to get back at him for that"  
"For what?" Leo asked.  
"For brushing her off in her moment of weakness"  
"Hasn't she done enough"  
"I think so, you think so, anyone with half a brain thinks so, but…if you ask me, this is just gonna keep going on. Back and forth. This is war, Leo. And we're the POWs"  
"Great," Leo replied, unenthusiasically.  
"We have to do something"  
"We're already tried, Millie. And I got bitched at because of it"  
"It's obvious they both want to be together, they're just too damn stubborn to be honest with each other," Millie said.  
"Don't you think I know that"  
"Well"  
"There's nothing we can do now"  
"You're giving up"  
"I'm giving in," Leo said. "They have to find their way to each other, by themselves. Plus, neither one of us is an expert on marriage"  
"Mere skeletons in the closet, Leo"  
"I think it's more than that, Millie"  
"Between both of our marriages, we've got about sixty-five years of holy matrimony behind us," Millie pointed out.  
"Yeah…that's not the same thing"  
"Sixty-five years of marriage, Leo"  
"And six years of divorce"  
"Don't be a Negative Nancy"  
Leo tried to suppress his laughter, unsucessfully.  
"A Negative Nancy"  
"Yeah. Negative Nancy, Debbie Downer…you know"  
"Notice they're both women," Leo pointed out.  
"Oh, bite me, would you"  
"Since you bring that up"  
"What?" Millie asked.  
"I wanted to ask you, and you're under no obligation to say yes, but…how would you feel about…going to dinner sometime"  
Millie burst out laughing, instantly deflating Leo's ego.  
"Why are you laughing at me"  
"I said bite me and you thought 'hey, let's go out to dinner"  
"Well, I figured it was a long shot, but"  
"I'd love to," Millie said.  
"What"  
"I'd love to have dinner with you." "You would," Leo said, more a queston than a statement.  
"Well, let's not make a talk show out of it"  
"I'm sorry, I just didn't think you'd say yes"  
"Why"  
"Because…you hate me"  
"I don't hate you. I've never hated you. I just enjoy arguing with you"  
"Oh"  
"And then there was the thing where you forgot your anniversary and caused one of my closet friends to divorce you. And out of loyalty, I resented you. That's the way it works"  
"Well"  
"You did the same thing to me when Scott and I called it quits"  
"That was different," Leo said.  
"Why"  
"You cheated on him!" "Because he cheated on me!" Millie exclaimed. "You can't prove that. It was just a suspicion which, by the way, was never confirmed"  
"Oh, bullshit, Leo." "So. How's tonight at eight"

London, England

"How are you?" Sir Anthony Prescott asked. "I haven't spoken to you since you met with my lawyer"  
"Yeah. I'm sorry about that. Things got a little complicated. My best friend flew in, unexpected," Abbey answered.  
"I read in the paper that the Surgeon General was in London as well"  
Abbey smiled at his naivete.  
"The Surgeon General is my best friend"  
"Oh. Well, that makes perfect sense then"  
"She left yesterday"  
"Oliver mentioned he hadn't seen much of Zoey either," Tony said. "The three of us have spent a lot of time together over the past week. Millie's like family," Abbey explained.  
Tony nodded. "So. How has the President reacted to the papers? I haven't read a thing about it"  
"I don't know. He had an episode a few days ago"  
"The MS"  
"Yes. I have a sneaking suspicion that it was the separation papers that brought it on, and I've been feeling horribly guilty"  
"You have nothing to feel guilty about. You couldn't have known"  
"I don't know," Abbey said, softly. "Maybe you're right"  
"Has he signed them"  
"No"  
"No"  
"No." "Is he planning to?" Tony questioned.  
"I don't know that either"  
"Then I don't suppose you want to attend a major function with me, hmm"  
"Depends," Abbey replied, coyly. "Which major function would that be"  
"A garden party at Buckingham Palace"  
"Would this include, say, a conversation with the Queen"  
"You could say that. A few conversations possibly"  
"Oooh. Well, that is intriguing"  
"What do you say?" Tony asked.  
"Will there be photographers and friends of my husband's attending this party"  
"It's very likely," he said, honestly, expecting her to decline him. "Then I'm in"

Washington, D.C.- the Oval Office

President Bartlet sat at his desk, holding the phone to his ear, and doodling on a post-it. The Secretary of Agriculture had been rambling for about ten minutes. The last thing Jed remember hearing was the word 'corn,' at which point he picked up his pen and began drawing various shapes on paper. He looked up when his secretary entered the Oval Office without knocking- something she rarely did.  
"Mr. President"  
Jed placed his hand over the phone to keep the man on the other line from hearing him.  
"Debbie, I'm on with the Secretary of Agriculture"  
"I know, sir, and I'm sorry to bother you, but this is important," Debbie said.  
"What is it?" Jed asked, concerned.  
"Annie and Gus are here." "Really. Elizabeth didn't mention she was coming to DC"  
"She didn't. She's not with them"  
"What do you mean"  
"She's not with them. I mean, she's not here. And before you ask, neither is Doug. In fact, the kids are…unaccompanied." "Good Lord," Jed whispered, then removed his hand from the phone. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Secretary, but I'm going to have to call you back. Something's come up. Yes. Yes. Thank you. Goodbye"  
He placed the phone down on the receiver and stood up.  
"Bring 'em in, Debbie"  
"Yes, sir"  
Jed tried to relax himself before seeing his grandchildren, as he always did. He wanted them to think of him more as their grandfather than as their president. Annie and Gus followed Debbie into the office.  
"Hi, Grandpa," they both said at once.  
"I'll be just outside if you need me, sir," Debbie said, excusing herself.  
"Thank you, Debbie"  
He approached his grandchild slowly, studying their expressions. "Please tell me that someone is here with you. Some responsible adult who accompanied you here with your mother's permission"  
"Don't be mad, Grandpa. It was really important that we see you, and Mom said she couldn't take us and…" Annie tried to explain.  
"Save it, Annie. We'll talk about this in a minute. Sit down on the couch while I call your mother and let her know you're all right. She's probably going out of her mind"  
"But…" "On the couch, Anne. Now"

Chapter Twenty-Three

Washington, D.C.- Leo McGarry's Office

"Josh, just don't make it a bigger deal than it is. When you meet with Congressman Lawrence today, explain the situation and let him know the White House isn't prepared to negotiate about this," Leo advised. "Lawrence doesn't take no for an answer," Josh answered.  
"He doesn't have a choice"  
"Leo"  
"Make your point and then get out, Josh"  
"Yeah. Okay. I'm going"  
Josh stood from his chair, moved toward the door and jumped back when it swung open and hitting him in the head. Margaret poked her head in, embarassed.  
"Sorry about that"  
"Yeah, it's okay. Just…almost killed me, but we're good now," Josh said. "That's a shame. Leo"  
"What's up, Margaret"  
"The Surgeon General is here," Margaret said.  
"She's back from London"  
"She got in this morning"  
"Send her in," Leo said.  
"Okay, now I'm really leaving," Josh said, hurriedly.  
"Coward"  
"Adios"  
On his way out, Josh ran right into Millie.  
"Dr. Griffith"  
"Joshua"  
"You're looking well"  
"You look like you just ran into a door," Millie said, with a smirk.  
"I didn't run into…oh, forget it. I'm leaving"  
"Godspeed"  
"Yeah, yeah"  
Millie smiled and rolled her eyes, then walked into Leo's office.  
"Welcome back," Leo said.  
"Thank you," Millie replied, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.  
"How was London"  
"It was…British"  
"Yeah, I've heard that"  
"How's the President?" Millie asked.  
"Much better. He's back on his feet"  
"I'll check in with his doctor before I leave"  
"Okay. Listen…how's Abbey"  
"How do you think she is, Leo"  
"That bad, huh?" Leo said.  
"I don't know. She goes from weak and vulnerable to angry and vindictive. One minute she's wallowing in self-pity and the next minute she's muttering obscenities under her breath"  
"The President's the same way. In your opinion, what's her next move"  
"Abbey's"  
"Yeah"  
"Well, I don't think she was too happy about showing him her concern and then being brushed off. He really hurt her when he asked to speak to me," Millie said.  
"Yeah, well, she really hurt him when she, ya know, sent him separation papers"  
"Judging by her actions of late, I'd say she's not quite finished yet"  
"What do you mean"  
"I told you she's been feeling…vindictive. For lack of a better word, as that does sound relatively harsh. She's probably going to want to get back at him for that"  
"For what?" Leo asked.  
"For brushing her off in her moment of weakness"  
"Hasn't she done enough"  
"I think so, you think so, anyone with half a brain thinks so, but…if you ask me, this is just gonna keep going on. Back and forth. This is war, Leo. And we're the POWs"  
"Great," Leo replied, unenthusiasically.  
"We have to do something"  
"We're already tried, Millie. And I got bitched at because of it"  
"It's obvious they both want to be together, they're just too damn stubborn to be honest with each other," Millie said.  
"Don't you think I know that"  
"Well"  
"There's nothing we can do now"  
"You're giving up"  
"I'm giving in," Leo said. "They have to find their way to each other, by themselves. Plus, neither one of us is an expert on marriage"  
"Mere skeletons in the closet, Leo"  
"I think it's more than that, Millie"  
"Between both of our marriages, we've got about sixty-five years of holy matrimony behind us," Millie pointed out.  
"Yeah…that's not the same thing"  
"Sixty-five years of marriage, Leo"  
"And six years of divorce"  
"Don't be a Negative Nancy"  
Leo tried to suppress his laughter, unsucessfully.  
"A Negative Nancy"  
"Yeah. Negative Nancy, Debbie Downer…you know"  
"Notice they're both women," Leo pointed out.  
"Oh, bite me, would you"  
"Since you bring that up"  
"What?" Millie asked.  
"I wanted to ask you, and you're under no obligation to say yes, but…how would you feel about…going to dinner sometime"  
Millie burst out laughing, instantly deflating Leo's ego.  
"Why are you laughing at me"  
"I said bite me and you thought 'hey, let's go out to dinner"  
"Well, I figured it was a long shot, but"  
"I'd love to," Millie said.  
"What"  
"I'd love to have dinner with you." "You would," Leo said, more a queston than a statement.  
"Well, let's not make a talk show out of it"  
"I'm sorry, I just didn't think you'd say yes"  
"Why"  
"Because…you hate me"  
"I don't hate you. I've never hated you. I just enjoy arguing with you"  
"Oh"  
"And then there was the thing where you forgot your anniversary and caused one of my closet friends to divorce you. And out of loyalty, I resented you. That's the way it works"  
"Well"  
"You did the same thing to me when Scott and I called it quits"  
"That was different," Leo said.  
"Why"  
"You cheated on him!" "Because he cheated on me!" Millie exclaimed. "You can't prove that. It was just a suspicion which, by the way, was never confirmed"  
"Oh, bullshit, Leo." "So. How's tonight at eight"

London, England

"How are you?" Sir Anthony Prescott asked. "I haven't spoken to you since you met with my lawyer"  
"Yeah. I'm sorry about that. Things got a little complicated. My best friend flew in, unexpected," Abbey answered.  
"I read in the paper that the Surgeon General was in London as well"  
Abbey smiled at his naivete.  
"The Surgeon General is my best friend"  
"Oh. Well, that makes perfect sense then"  
"She left yesterday"  
"Oliver mentioned he hadn't seen much of Zoey either," Tony said. "The three of us have spent a lot of time together over the past week. Millie's like family," Abbey explained.  
Tony nodded. "So. How has the President reacted to the papers? I haven't read a thing about it"  
"I don't know. He had an episode a few days ago"  
"The MS"  
"Yes. I have a sneaking suspicion that it was the separation papers that brought it on, and I've been feeling horribly guilty"  
"You have nothing to feel guilty about. You couldn't have known"  
"I don't know," Abbey said, softly. "Maybe you're right"  
"Has he signed them"  
"No"  
"No"  
"No." "Is he planning to?" Tony questioned.  
"I don't know that either"  
"Then I don't suppose you want to attend a major function with me, hmm"  
"Depends," Abbey replied, coyly. "Which major function would that be"  
"A garden party at Buckingham Palace"  
"Would this include, say, a conversation with the Queen"  
"You could say that. A few conversations possibly"  
"Oooh. Well, that is intriguing"  
"What do you say?" Tony asked.  
"Will there be photographers and friends of my husband's attending this party"  
"It's very likely," he said, honestly, expecting her to decline him. "Then I'm in"

Washington, D.C.- the Oval Office

President Bartlet sat at his desk, holding the phone to his ear, and doodling on a post-it. The Secretary of Agriculture had been rambling for about ten minutes. The last thing Jed remember hearing was the word 'corn,' at which point he picked up his pen and began drawing various shapes on paper. He looked up when his secretary entered the Oval Office without knocking- something she rarely did.  
"Mr. President"  
Jed placed his hand over the phone to keep the man on the other line from hearing him.  
"Debbie, I'm on with the Secretary of Agriculture"  
"I know, sir, and I'm sorry to bother you, but this is important," Debbie said.  
"What is it?" Jed asked, concerned.  
"Annie and Gus are here." "Really. Elizabeth didn't mention she was coming to DC"  
"She didn't. She's not with them"  
"What do you mean"  
"She's not with them. I mean, she's not here. And before you ask, neither is Doug. In fact, the kids are…unaccompanied." "Good Lord," Jed whispered, then removed his hand from the phone. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Secretary, but I'm going to have to call you back. Something's come up. Yes. Yes. Thank you. Goodbye"  
He placed the phone down on the receiver and stood up.  
"Bring 'em in, Debbie"  
"Yes, sir"  
Jed tried to relax himself before seeing his grandchildren, as he always did. He wanted them to think of him more as their grandfather than as their president. Annie and Gus followed Debbie into the office.  
"Hi, Grandpa," they both said at once.  
"I'll be just outside if you need me, sir," Debbie said, excusing herself.  
"Thank you, Debbie"  
He approached his grandchild slowly, studying their expressions. "Please tell me that someone is here with you. Some responsible adult who accompanied you here with your mother's permission"  
"Don't be mad, Grandpa. It was really important that we see you, and Mom said she couldn't take us and…" Annie tried to explain.  
"Save it, Annie. We'll talk about this in a minute. Sit down on the couch while I call your mother and let her know you're all right. She's probably going out of her mind"  
"But…" "On the couch, Anne. Now"  



	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Four

Washington, D.C.

"She's on her way," Jed announced.

"Mom?" Annie asked.

"No. Cher."

"Look, Grandpa…"

"You know better, Annie. What were you thinking?"

"Gus and I had to talk to you. Well, I had to talk to you. And Gus made me bring him. We can't take this separation."

"There is no separation. I haven't signed the papers yet," Jed said.

"Well, whatever. You can't sign them. You can't let her do this. She's crazy. Temporary insanity. Oh, screw it, she's lost her freakin' mind!" Annie exclaimed.

"Ok, that's enough."

"You guys love each other. I know you do, so don't deny it."

"I wasn't going to."

"Just stop being stubborn and talk to each other. Listen to each other. Hearing isn't good enough. You have to listen. You're both just too stubborn to admit defeat."

"It's not your place to get involved, Annie."

"Then who's place is it?" Annie questioned.

"No one's."

"Well, what good does that do?"

"Not much, I admit. But that's no excuse for you to travel by yourself, without permission, from New Hampshire to the White House. Do you understand me?" Jed asked.

"Save it, Grandpa. Mom'll lecture us enough, you don't have to."

"I WANT to."

Baltimore, Maryland

"Ellie."

"What?"

"Step away from the laptop."

"Mark!"

"Bye-bye, laptop," Mark said, closing it.

"Hey!" Ellie cried.

"You promised me no laptop today."

"I know, but I just have a few more things to…"

"No. Not today."

"Fine," Ellie sighed.

She put her laptop on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch. Mark draped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close.

"See. Now isn't that better?"

"It's less stressful, I'll grant you that," Ellie replied.

"I'll take what I can get."

"I'm sorry I've been such a drag lately."

"I wouldn't put it that way, exactly…"

"I've been a drag, Mark. Just say it," Ellie said.

"All right, you've been a drag. But only a little bit."

"I'm sorry. I am."

"We're getting married, Ellie! You need to relax and let that sink in. We're getting married."

Ellie smiled warmly, then kissed him lightly on the lips.

"We're getting married."

"This is what you want, isn't it?" Mark asked.

"Of course it's what I want! It's just…a little odd for me. My parents' marriage is falling apart, and we're about to tie the knot. It's an interesting juxtaposition. It just makes me think, that's all."

"I know the timing wasn't the best."

"No, don't say that. Don't reduce our engagement to something like that."

"I had been planning on asking you long before the thing with your parents happened," Mark explained.

"I know. I'm not blaming you. I'm simply bringing it to your attention."

"All right."

"Hey, did I tell you? Annie and Gus took a Greyhound to D.C. this morning. By themselves. Without Liz's permission," Ellie said.

"You're kidding."

"No! She called me on her way to the airport. She's going to get them."

"They went to the White House?"

"Yeah. Apparently they just 'had' to talk to Dad."

"About what?" Mark asked.

"I don't know. But knowing Annie like I do, probably trying to convince him to rip up the separation papers."

"She's a brave girl."

Ellie laughed.

"She's Liz. Exactly Liz."

"Like mother, like daughter, hmm?"

"Oh yeah."

"Kind of like you and your mom," Mark commented.

"Yeah," Ellie answered, in a whisper. "Kind of."

London, England

"This is the biggest house I have ever seen in my life," Zoey said.

"Bigger than the White House?" Oliver Prescott questioned, wryly.

"Maybe. I can't believe you LIVE here."

"I've got an apartment in the city as well. It's more convenient," Tony said.

"This is…HUGE!" Zoey exclaimed, again, completely astonished.

"Eh, it's not that big," Abbey said, smiling mischievously at Tony.

"You're just spoiled," he replied.

"No sense denying that!" Abbey agreed.

"You could fit a whole village in here," Zoey commented. "Not just the people-their houses too."

"I could start my own civilization," Tony joked.

"You could!"

"Oliver, why don't you show Zoey and Abbey to rooms where they can change?" Tony suggested.

"Sure. Follow me, ladies."

"How much time do we have, Tony?" Abbey inquired.

"About an hour."

"That's it!"

Tony laughed.

"What do you mean, that's it? That's more than enough time!"

"Not if we're going to Buckingham Palace!" Abbey exclaimed.

"Yeah, we need at least two hours if we're going to party with the Queen," Zoey added.

"There isn't going to be a disco ball or anything, Zoey," Oliver said, grinning.

"Shut up, Oliver, and lead the way!"

Washington, D.C.

Leo McGarry knocked lightly on CJ Cregg's open office door before walking in.

"Hey."

She looked up from her computer.

"Hi, Leo."

"Just a heads up. I'm calling this an early night."

"Why?"

"I want you guys to get some sleep. I'm tired of coming into the office in the morning and seeing you all either asleep on your couches or with your heads face down on the desk. Take a rest before the next crisis hits," Leo explained.

CJ smiled knowingly.

"You gotta give me a better reason than that."

"CJ."

"Come on, Leo. Spit it out."

"Spit what out!"

"You've got plans tonight, don't you?"

"No!"

"Yeah, ya do. Own up."

"I have nothing to own up to," Leo insisted.

"What about your date with the Surgeon General tonight?"

"How the hell did you know about that!"

"Joe Griffith called me."

"Her SON told you!"

"He's my friend!" CJ said, defensively. "Apparently, he called Dr. Griffith to ask if she could babysit the kids and she said no because she's got a date with the President's Chief of Staff."

"I bet those were her exact words too," Leo said.

"Probably. So. Where are you taking her?"

"I'm through talking about this, CJ."

"Come on, Leo!"

"Go home early tonight."

"Leo!"

"See ya."

"Grounded!"

"But, Mom!" Annie and Gus whined.

"For a month."

"Mom!"

"Longer if you don't stop whining," Elizabeth said.

The two children groaned and rolled their eyes.

"Whatever," Annie muttered.

"Don't you give me attitude, young lady. You walked right into this one!"

"It was for a good cause!"

"I don't care. If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'm locking you in the basement until you graduate from high school," Liz said.  
"That's a little dramatic, Mom."

"Don't start with me, Anne. I'm really not in the mood."

"When are we going home?" Gus asked, quietly.

"We might as well stay the night."

"Yes!"

"Go bring your stuff upstairs, and stay there until you hear from me," Liz ordered.

"Okay!"

Annie and Gus grabbed their bags and bolted out of the Mural Room. Liz approached her father, who sat at the end of the room watching them.

"I thought this room was used for official White House business," Liz said.

"You don't call this official White House business? The First Grandchildren of the United States ran away from home and just got grounded. I'd say that's pretty worthy of the Mural Room," Jed replied.

Liz sighed and sat beside him.

"I'm sorry about all this, Dad."

"Don't be. It wasn't a problem. And if even if it was, it wasn't your fault."

"I can't believe they did something like this. This is a bit much, even for them," Liz said.

"Kids are impulsive. They don't think of consequences," Jed said.

"Are you defending what they did?"

"No, I'm saying you were the same way when you were fifteen. I seem to recall you stealing your mother's car and running away at sixteen as well"  
Liz sighed.

"Yeah. But now that I'm the parent, it's so hard to put myself in Annie's shoes. I know I did the same things, acted the same way. And when I was fifteen, I wondered why sometimes Mom didn't understand. And now that's me. I'm Mom, and Annie's me."

"I know you doubt it sometimes, Liz, but you really are a great mom."

"Thanks, Dad," she replied, softly.

"I mean it. For someone who became a mother at such a young age, you really pulled it together. I admit, we worried about you. But you proved us wrong. Annie's a remarkable girl, and she's destined for great things. She's got you to thank."

"You're making me cry, Dad!" Liz exclaimed, wiping a few tears off her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, hon. It just needed to be said. What Annie and Gus did wasn't your fault. You can take care of your children, but you can't control them. Children are rebellious by nature, because they have nothing to lose, except maybe television priviledges for a week or two."

She nodded.

"I'm gonna go talk to them, then stop in and see Amy."

"Okay. Liz?"

"What."

"Did you eat?"

She laughed.

"Yes, Dad."

"You look thin."

"I eat fine. I've just got Mom's figure, that's all."

Jed smiled.

"Yeah, you do."

"Only I'm slightly taller."

"If by slightly taller, you mean much taller, then yes, I agree."

Liz grinned in return.

"I'll see you in a bit."

"Indeed you will."

London, England

"How much have you had to drink?" Tony Prescott asked.

He took the near-empty glass of champagne from Abbey Bartlet's hands.

"Hey!"

"How much, Abbey?"

"Three. Maybe four. But that's it!"

"Dear Lord. No more. Do you hear me?" Tony said.

"What are you, my mother? I'm a grown woman."

"A grown woman who can't hold her liquor."

"I can hold my liquor!"

"Nooo, you can't, darling. Here. Drink this."

He handed her a glass of water.

"You drink it!" She exclaimed, pushing his hand away.

"Abbey, I'm serious. You don't want to be drunk at Buckingham Palace, believe me. And if you keep going the way you're going now, that's exactly what's going to happen."

"Fine. I'll drink the water. Happy now?"

"Very. Now, come with me, the Prime Minister's been waiting to speak with you all evening."

Washington, D.C.

"What a rebel!" Amy Gardner exclaimed, laughing.

"Amy, come on, this is serious! She took a Greyhound from Manchester to DC!" Liz replied.

"It's funny, Liz. And admirable. You wish you could have pulled a stunt like that when you were a kid."

"I could have!"

"Yeah, but you didn't."

"I didn't have time! I had a baby by the time I was sixteen. That didn't leave much time for rebelliousness," Liz said.

"Um, hate to break it to you, Liz, but…having sex when you're a teenager IS rebelliousness."

"Thanks, Amy. Really. You're a pal."

"What's that noise?" Amy asked, looking around. "Tell me you do not have a vibrator in your purse."

Liz stared at her in disbelief, then began rummaging through her purse.

"It's my cell phone, freak!"

"Freak! I resent that."

Liz flipped open her cell phone and placed it to her ear.

"Zoey?"

"You'll never guess where I am right now," Zoey said.

"I don't know. Zaire?"

"Wow. No. Guess again."

"I don't know, Zoey, why don't you just tell me?"

"I'm at Buckingham Palace."

"What!"

"Garden party."

"Who are you with?" Liz asked.

"Oliver brought me."

"So it's you, Oliver, and the Queen?"

"Well, Mom and Tony too."

"Mom's there?"

"Yeah!"

"With Tony?"

"Um, yeah."

"And you support this?"

"Support what? We're at a party! It's not like they're getting married or anything," Zoey replied.

"But, Zoey…"

"Ooh, I gotta go. I think I just saw Maggie Smith."

"Zoey!"

"I'll call you later. Bye!"

Liz reluctantly shut her phone and threw it back into her purse.

"What was that?" Amy asked.

"Zoey's at a garden party. At Buckingham Palace."

"With Oliver Prescott?"

"Yeah. Mom's there with Tony and…"

"Wait, stop. Your mother's there?"

"Yeah…"

"Damnit. Damnit!" Amy exclaimed.

"What?"

"I didn't know about this. And I'm pretty sure her social secretary didn't either. Which means Leo didn't know, and the President didn't know."

"Well, what does that…"

"Liz, we're talking the cover of every publication in the world tomorrow morning. Official pictures too, not just paparazzi."

Amy picked up the phone and dialed.

"Donna, I need Josh."

She placed her hand over the phone and spoke to Liz.

"You might wanna get up to the Residence and hide, because a storm's about to break."


	24. Chapter 24

Washington, D.C.

"What the hell!" Josh exclaimed, the moment Amy Gardner sauntered into his office in the West Wing.

"Hi there."

"What's going on?"

"I'm fine, thanks, how are you?"

"Amy, I swear to God…"

"All right," Amy said, sitting down on Josh's couch. "Ready for this?"

"No."

"Okay. The First Lady attended a garden party at Buckingham Palace today."

"Yeah. Ok. And…?"

"She went with Sir Prescott."

"No, she didn't," Josh replied, instantly delving into denial.

"Yes…she did, Josh."

"No. She didn't."

"Josh!"

"I don't believe you."

"Mrs. Bartlet went with Sir Prescott, and Zoey was escorted by Sir Prescott's son. Oliver, I think his name is. The kid who was in the magazine with her," Amy explained.

"Are there pictures?"

"There will be."

"Well, that's okay. Your press secretary announced it this morning, didn't she?" Josh asked.

"No."

"No? Why the hell not?"

"We didn't know about it, Josh! Why the hell do you think I'm here right now?"

"You didn't know that the First Lady was going to the most important event in London. With another man."

"That's right. I didn't know, Brantley didn't know…"

"Who's Brantley?"

"Her social secretary!"

"The First Lady has a male social secretary?" Josh said, in disbelief.

"She also has a female Chief of Staff. You got a problem with that?"

"No, ma'am!"

"Look, you realize how big this is gonna be, right?" Amy questioned.

"Yeah. I just…damnit. Leo sent everyone home about an hour ago."

"Why?"

Josh grinned.

"Date with the Surgeon General."

"Leo and Dr. Griffith?"

"Yep. Gold, isn't it?"

"I'd love to be a fly on the wall during that date," Amy commented.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Anyway. I'm gonna call Leo."

"Don't interrupt his date, Josh. You know how first dates are."

"I don't have a choice, Amy. He's gotta know about this."

"Yeah. Ok. I'm gonna get on the phone and find out what I can."

"Ok. I'll call you after I get off the phone with Leo."

"Try and be subtle, Josh. The President's best friend is out on a date with the First Lady's best friend."

"So?"

"So, there's bound to be a mutiny of some kind. The First Couple's going through a difficult time right now. I'm sure Leo and Dr. Griffith have…taken sides."

"This isn't high school, Amy. They're professionals."

"Semantics, Leo!"

"Millie."

"I am not gonna play games with you. Not tonight."

Millicent Griffith and Leo McGarry sat in an intimate corner of one of Georgetown's finest restaurants. Shortly after placing their dinner orders, a storm of their own broke.

"I don't wanna play games. I'm trying to have a civil conversation, which you are turning into a discussion of…"

"Semantics!"

"It's fact!"

"It's an analysis." Millie remained steadfast.

"Ok. You're right. Let's change the subject."

"Fine. How's Mallory?"

"Very good. How are Joe and Evan?" Leo asked.

"Very good. Spoken to Jenny lately?"

Leo stared back at her incredulously.

"Spoken to Scott lately?"

"Touché."

"I feel like breaking out into a rousing version of 'Farewell, Amanda.'"

Millie shot him a look of confusion.

"What?"

"Adam's Rib. Tracy and Hepburn…"

"Oh."

"All of the bickering and bantering we're doing just…" Leo began.

"Reminds you of Tracy and Hepburn."

"Yeah."

"I like to think we're more…Desk Set than Adam's Rib."

"How about Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?"

"Hmm. Well, did Mallory recently bring home an African American fiancee named Sidney Poitier?"

"Not recently," Leo replied.

"Then I think it's safe to rule that one out."

"Yeah."

Millie scowled and rolled her eyes when Leo's cell phone suddenly began ringing, loudly, causing a stir throughout the swanky restaurant.

"For God's sake, Leo," she whispered.

"What! It's not like I called myself!" Leo answered, taking out his phone and flipping it open.

"What?" He said, with irritation.

"It's me," Josh said.

"Who the hell else would it be?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt your hot date, but this is important."

"I told you to go home, Josh. Damnit, why didn't you just go home?"

"I was on my way out when Amy called," Josh explained.

"This is about Amy?"

"If by Amy you mean the First Lady, then yeah. It is."

Leo groaned audibly, causing Millie to raise an eyebrow out of curiosity.

"What happened?"

"Mrs. Bartlet attended a garden party at Buckingham Palace this afternoon, with Sir Prescott. Amy didn't know about it, neither did the First Lady's social secretary. Not to mention the press. Zoey was with her, escorted by Sir Prescott's son, Oliver."

"Are there pictures yet?"

"Not yet. That's why we're jumping on this now."

"Ok. Round up the rest of the staff. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"All right."

"Hey, Josh."

"Yeah?"

"How did Amy find out about this if she didn't know ahead of time?" Leo questioned.

"Uh…Liz, I think."

"Okay. I'll be there soon."

"See ya."

Leo shut his phone off, returned it to its place in his pocket, then looked up at his date shamefaced.

"I'm sorry."

"What is it now?"

"It seems that Abbey went to Buckingham Palace with Tony Prescott this afternoon, unannounced."

Millie nodded.

"What? What was that nod?" Leo asked.

"I should have seen that coming."

"Why?"

"He brushed her off, she's teaching him a lesson," Millie explained.

"What the hell kind of lesson is that?"

Millie shrugged nonchalantly.

"It's a lesson in vengeance."

Leo McGarry traveled the seemingly long distance from his office to the Residence taking his time. He greeted the agents that were stationed at various points and stopped from time to time to admire the artwork on the walls. He had never been very skilled at procrastination. The last thing he wanted to do was give the President more bad news. It was as if nothing good had happened within the last few weeks. But this wasn't just bad news politically speaking. It was also bad news personally. Leo knew it was difficult for his best friend to have to juggle the political aspects of his marital problems along with the personal. It was only going to get worse from here.

Leo approached the agents that stood somberly in front of the President's bedroom.

"How ya doing, guys?"

"Fine, thank you, Mr. McGarry."

"Has the President gone to bed?"

"No, sir. The President's in his grandson's bedroom."

"Oh. Okay. Thank you."

Leo spun around and began walking in the opposite direction. When he reached the bedroom that he remembered to be Gus', he paused in front of the door and lightly tapped on it. Though he received no response, he could voice soft, hushed voices from inside the room. He opened the door a crack and, without a word, stuck his head in the room. Leo found Jed Bartlet lying in his grandson's bed, with both of his grandchildren flanking him on either side. He had an arm around both of them and a book in his lap.

"Read more, Grandpa," Gus demanded, lethargically, when he noticed that Jed had stopped.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President. Could I…?"

Jed nodded, ruefully. He kissed Annie on the cheek and Gus on the forehead before getting off the bed.

"I'll be back soon," Jed said to his grandchildren, who merely nodded in response.

He followed Leo out of the bedroom and closed the door behind them.

"What's going on?"

"I've got the gang down in the Oval," Leo answered, nervously.

"What happened, Leo?"

"Why don't you just come with me, sir. We'll explain it all to you in a minute."

Jed reluctantly agreed and accompanied Leo downstairs and into the Oval Office. CJ, Sam, Josh, Toby, Will, and Amy were assembled insid, sitting in complete silence, which was a very unusual occurance.

"Good evening, Mr. President."

"Sit down, guys. Let's get this over with. What's going on?" Jed questioned, sitting in his chair.

They all looked at Amy.

"Well…Mr. President, it seems that the First Lady…"

"Oh, God," Jed mumbled.

"The First Lady attended a garden party at Buckingham Palace this afternoon. With Sir Prescott. It looks to have been a spur of the moment decision, as she neglected to inform anyone at her office, myself and Brantley Moore."

Jed nodded, pensively.

"How did you find out? Are there pictures already?"

"No, sir. Zoey attended the party as well, with Oliver Prescott, and she called Liz. Liz happened to be in my office when Zoey called her and…"

"Yeah. Okay. CJ, how long before word of this gets out?" Jed asked.

"I highly doubt there'll be anything tonight, sir. But I think it's safe to say I'll be unundated with questions in the press room by tomorrow morning," CJ responded.

"How do you want to handle this, Amy?" Leo inquired.

"I don't like to make an official comment without speaking to Mrs. Bartlet first. I'd like to wait and see if calls me about it."

"Your numbers are gonna take a hit," Jed said, stating the obvious.

"Yeah," Amy said, sadly. "We'll be down in the early twenties by tomorrow, I'd say."

"Mr. President, our numbers are gonna take a hit too, you know," Josh pointed out.

"Ours? Why?"

"Due respect, sir, but the First Lady is out blatantly running around with another man, in the Queen's presence no less, while you're still deciding whether or not you want to sign separation papers! It makes you look like a wuss!"

"Josh," Leo admonished. "Sir, what Josh means is…"

"I know what Josh means, Leo," Jed replied. "And he's right."

"Mr. President, you need to the sign the papers," Josh said, adamently.

Jed nodded.

"What do you guys think?"

"Despite what Josh may say, I don't think that's our call, sir," Sam said.

"From a PR standpoint, I can say that's what you should do, yes, but Sam's right," Toby added.

"This is a personal decision, sir, and you need to make it on your own. Not because we pressured you to," CJ said.

"Leo?" Jed said.

"I'm with them. It's up to you."

"Yeah. Okay. Would one of you go get Charlie and tell him to bring me the papers please?"

Josh looked back at his president, confusion plain on his face.

"Sir, what are you going to do? Are you going to sign them, or are you going to…?"

"Get Charlie," Jed responded, simply.

"Yes, sir." 


	25. Chapter 25

London, England

Abbey Bartlet returned to her hotel room shortly after midnight. She quickly shed her blue strapless Gucci dress, which had been irritating her all evening, and slipped into a silk bathrobe. She kicked off her four-inch Manolo heels and pulled her hair out of the clip that held it off her neck. After drawing the curtains closed and turning on the light, Abbey walked over to the door that separated her room from Zoey's. She knocked on it lightly and waited for a response.

"Come in."

Abbey pushed the door open slowly and creeped into the dark room. The only light in the room was that of the muted television. Zoey Bartlet was lying in bed, motionless, as if she hadn't moved a muscle in hours. There were dark circles surrounding her eyes, and dried mascara below them.

"Zoey?"

"How was your date?" Zoey asked, sitting up.

"I think I'm a little too old to be calling it a date. But…it was fun. We went to the nicest restaurant in…"

"Mom."

Abbey stared at her momentarily, startled by the interruption. Zoey held up an large manila envelope.

"This came for you today."

"What is it?" Abbey asked, tentatively reaching for it.

"You know what it is. And so do I."

"You opened my mail!"

"Yeah. Why don't you do the same?"

Abbey reluctantly pulled the papers out of the envelope, her eyes quickly falling onto one thing, and one thing only.

"He signed it," she whispered.

"You sound surprised," Zoey observed.

Her eyes never leaving the signature, Abbey replied, "No."

"You're not surprised then?"

"Why would I be surprised?"

She quickly tried to pull herself together. It took all the strength she had inside her to muster up the confidence to speak with her daughter about this.

"Right. You shouldn't be. You asked for it. Literally, you asked for it."

"I know that, Zoey," Abbey said, defensively.

"Do you?"

"I know you're upset."

"Upset doesn't do it justice, Mother."

"Is that what we've come, Zoey? Calling me Mother? I thought you'd be pleased about this."

"What!" Zoey exclaimed in disbelief. "You thought I'd be pleased? What the hell would give you that idea?"

"Well, you do happen to be dating Tony's son."

"So that automatically means I want my parents to be separated!"

"Well…"

"No, Mom! I'm not pleased about this. Though, I'm sure as hell not as pissed as Liz is gonna be."

Abbey nodded.

"I'm going to bed."

"You mean you're gonna have a couple glasses of wine and drink yourself to sleep," Zoey said, cruelly.

"Let's not do this," Abbey said, distantly.

"How many bottles of Merlot have you finished off in the last week, Mom? Honestly."

"That is none of your business, Zoey."

"Wine is the new sleeping pill, I hear. Works, doesn't it?"

"Stop."

"Eleven is the answer," Zoey said.

"What?"

"Eleven bottles of wine in the last week."

"Zoey, please," Abbey whispered, on the verge of tears.

"Tell me, is wine good for easing the pain of a guilty conscience night after night? If this is hurting you so much, Mom, why are you doing it? Why cause everyone, yourself included, all the pain? What's the point? What good can come of this!"

"I don't know."

"What?" Zoey said, caught off-guard.

"I don't know."

Washington, D.C.

"No questions."

"But, Leo…"

"No questions, CJ. Not a one," Leo said, firmly.

"I think that's a mistake," Josh interjected.

"I don't care! CJ, I want you to go in there, read that statement, and then get the hell outta the press room. Are you hearing me!"

"Yes," CJ replied, her head bowed.

"Leo, the questions are going to be endless. If she doesn't answer them now, she'll just have to answer them later," Sam said.

"I have strict orders from the President of the United States. Remember him?"

When he received no response, Leo nodded and walked back behind his desk, sitting down in his chair.

"Good."

"This is a mistake, Leo," Josh said.

"Fill in the blank, Josh. You serve at the pleasure of the…."

"President," he murmured in reply.

"What was that?"

"President!"

"That's right. End of discussion. Get back to work."

The senior staff exchanged apprehensive glances, and did not move. They stared at their boss until finally, he looked up at them incredulously.

"What now?" Leo asked, letting out a heavy sigh.

"We were just wondering…" Will began.

"Is the President coming down today?" Toby asked.

"Of course he is," Leo answered, matter-of-factly.

"It's just that…he spent the entire weekend in the Residence," Sam said.

"Well, it's Monday now."

"Leo, is he okay?" CJ asked, clearly concerned.

"Sure."

"I'm serious."

"The President is just fine. He's been on his own for over a month now. The only thing that's different now, is the separation is legal and official. The last thing he needs is your pity," Leo said.

"But he could use our compassion," CJ said.

"I'm sure he could. But I would expect nothing less from the five of you."

Kent, England

Sir Anthony Prescott paced back and forth across the parlor in his Kent mansion, his eyes never leaving the telephone. He put his hands in his pockets, a nervous habit, then stopped walking. When the phone finally rang, he lunged for it without hesitation.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dad."

"Damnit!" Tony exclaimed.

"I must say, I'm really feeling the love right now," Oliver said.

"As well you should. What the hell do you want, Ollie?"

"Just wanted to call and tell you how much I enjoy being your son."

"Whatever it is, make it snappy. I'm expecting a call," Tony said.

"You don't have call waiting?"

"Call what?"

"Waiting…nevermind. Who are you expecting the call from?" Oliver questioned.

"Abbey. She's supposed to come up this weekend."

"Oh. Uh. Well, I don't think she'll be phoning you today, Dad."

"What? Why?"

"I spoke to Zoey earlier. The separation papers came in the mail yesterday. Signed."

"All right. Well, that's what she wanted, right?" Tony said.

"I don't know. You know better than I do. But I'm sure that even if it was what she wanted, it's still hard. She's separating herself from the past thirty-seven years."

"Yeah," Tony said, with a sigh. "You're right. Are you bringing Zoey to the house this weekend?"

"If she wants to come. She might want to hang around with Abbey. But then, Abbey may change her mind and come along too. Is Daphne coming?" Oliver questioned.

"Daphne AND Charles. We're going to have a house full."

"Yeah." Oliver rolled his eyes. "I can't wait."

Washington, D.C.

"Calm. Controlled. Cool. Composed. Collected."

Amy Gardner walked around her office, absentmindedly whispering to herself. She alternated inhaling and exhaling between words, and closing her eyes every so often.

"Composed. Cool. Collected. Calm. Controlled. Find a happy place. The beach, the sand, the sun, the water…ahhh…"

A loud knock on the door brought her out of her reverie. Her movements stopped and she took a deep breath for speaking.

"Yeah?"

The door creaked open and one of the interns popped his head into the office.

"Amy. Phone call, line two."

"Who is it?"

"It's Mata Hari."

Amy narrowed her eyes in confusion, then finally understood.

"You watch the way you refer to her, kid. I don't care what your opinion of her is right now, she is still your boss and you will treat her with the utmost respect. Do you understand me!"

"Er…yes, ma'am."

"Get out."

The intern nodded and quickly made his exit from the Chief of Staff's office. Amy walked behind her desk and sat down. She placed her hand on the phone, then stopped herself.

"Cool. Composed. Calm. Collected. Controlled. Tanning at the beach. Margaritas. Cabana boys…okay. Let's do this, Gardner."

She grabbed the phone and brought it to her ear.

"Mrs. Bartlet, hi."

"How you doing, Amy?"

"Fine, thank you, ma'am. How are you?"

"Fine. Listen, I just wanted to check in with you, regarding the…you know…"

"Right," Amy answered, quickly.

"How are you…handling this?"

"How would you like me to, ma'am?"

"I saw CJ's press conference," Abbey said. "She didn't take questions."

"No, ma'am. Both my staff and the President's staff have been instructed not to take questions in relation this particular topic."

"Who's the mastermind behind that one?"

"The President."

"Ah. Well, that's probably for the best."

"Yes, ma'am," Amy agreed, more dutifully than honestly.

"So you're doing all right then?"

"Truthfully?"

"Yes…"

"I wish you had told me about the garden party beforehand," Amy admitted.

"I am sorry about, Amy. I am."

"Next time…?"

"I'll tell you."

"Thank you."

"So how many magazines am I gracing the cover of right now?" Abbey asked.

"Uh…I have a list somewhere," Amy said, rummaging through the drawers in her desk.

"That many, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am. Here it is. People, US Weekly, Star, InTouch, Cosmopolitan…"

"Cosmopolitan? Really?"

"Yes, ma'am. Also, Vogue…"

"Vogue!"

"Apparently they admired your dress a great deal," Amy said.

"I see. Go on."

"Time."

"Time? I feel important!" Abbey commented.

"Good Housekeeping, Harper's Bazaar, Redbook, Ladies' Home Journal, and AARP."

Abbey gasped.

"AARP! Are you kidding me!" She exclaimed, appalled.

"Yeah. Pretty funny, huh?" Amy replied, with a chuckle.

"No!"

"I'll be sure to remember that next time. No old age jokes. The First Lady has no sense of humor."

Then, for the first time in well over a month, the First Lady of the United States and her Chief of Staff experienced a completely carefree moment full of much-needed laughter.

Laughter had been a foreign thing to Jed Bartlet these last few days. He smiled and put on a front when around others, but when he was alone (which was often nowadays), he experienced neither laughter nor a smile. The truth was, his entire world was crumbling before his very eyes. Though he came off confident in public, inside he wasn't so sure he would be able to fix it this time. Sitting alone in the Oval Office in the middle of the day, Jed decided to devise a plan that would close the gaps, repair what was broken and, most importantly, bring her back to him.


	26. Chapter 26

Washington, D.C.

"Lunch in the President's personal dining room. I can't get over it," Mark Schaefer commented, absently taking a bite out of his club sandwich.

"Better get used to it, son. You're engaged to the President's daughter," Jed replied.

"You know, all this time we've been dating, I've never even seen Ellie like that. The President's daughter. This is very surreal to me."

"Let's not talk about me like I'm not here, all right?" Ellie suggested, wryly.

"If that's what you really want," Jed said.

"I thought we were here to discuss the wedding."

"We are," Mark said. "I'm just a little…bowled over by all of this."

"You mean intimidated," Ellie said.

"I'm not intimidated!"

"He's intimidated," Ellie repeated, glancing at her father.

"Okay, I'm a little intimidated. But mostly bowled over," Mark said.

"I get that a lot," Jed stated.

"So, Dad, we were thinking…"

"Have you told your mother yet?"

"What?" Ellie asked, startled by the non sequitur.

"Does your mother know about your engagement?" Jed questioned.

"I…I don't know. I guess if someone else told her…"

"You didn't tell her?"

"I haven't spoken to her in two weeks," Ellie admitted.

"Ellie, she's your mother. You have to tell her."

"No, I don't."

"What are you going to do? Neglect to invite her to your wedding?"

"That's the plan, yes."

"That is not the plan," Mark said, firmly. "Mr. President, I insisted that Ellie call her mother, but she refuses. I'd love for her to come to the wedding. In fact, it would mean a lot to me."

"If Ellie won't call her, you're welcome to, Mark. One of you needs to."

"Don't even think about it, Mark," Ellie replied, quickly. "Why don't you call her, Dad?"

"Ellie."

Ellie shrugged.

"It was worth a shot. I'm just…I don't know, it's weird that this…is how you're spending your thirty-eighth anniversary."

"We're not going to discuss that, Ellie. Not now," Jed said, softly.

"Not ever?"

He nodded pensively.

"Yeah."

London, England

"Good evening, Mr. Prescott."

Oliver nodded and smiled at his girlfriend's Secret Service agents cordially.

"She's expecting me."

"She's gone out for a few minutes, and instructed us to let you inside."

"Oh. Okay…where did she go?"

"She can tell you that when she gets back."

"All right."

One of the agents unlocked Zoey's hotel room door, waited for him to walk inside, then closed the door behind him. He walked around aimlessly, glancing at various items in the room, and finally stopping to look out the window. He then heard a loud, crashing noise come from the room next door, as if something had fallen, and then broken into pieces. Oliver walked over to the door that connected Zoey's room with Abbey's and listened for a moment. When he didn't hear a sound, he tapped lightly on the door.

"Who is it?" Came the muffled voice from the other room.

Oliver turned the knob and pushed the door open.

"Mrs. Bartlet?"

"Damnit," she whispered.

The room was almost completely dark, except for the lights that shone up through the window from the street lamps below. He squinted, looking around for the person he knew was there. It was not long before his eyes fell upon her, huddling in a corner of the room, her knees drawn up to her chest, and an unidentified object in her hand. Nervously, he began to walk towards her.

"Mrs. Bartlet, is everything all right?"

"Fine."

It was then that he noticed what she was holding- a glass of red wine. She brought the glass to her lips and swallowed its entire contents in one gulp. As he got closer, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes and her tear-stained cheeks.

"What happened?" Oliver asked, now very alarmed by the sight before him.

"I told you, I'm fine."

This was far from the image of Abbey Bartlet he was used to. The elegant, poised, confident, charming woman the world knew and loved. Quite frankly, he was a bit taken aback by it. He kneeled down in front of her and looked into her now very sad-looking green eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" Oliver questioned seriously, his eyes searching hers for an unspoken answer.

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.

"Why do you care?"

With that, she poured more of the red wine into her glass and brought it to her lips once more.

"Well," Oliver said, thoughtfully. "In addition to being my girlfriend's mother, you also happen to be my father's girlfriend. So needless to say, I do have a certain amount of respect, and now concern, for you, Abbey."

"I appreciate that, Oliver. Really, I do. Now go away," Abbey said, taking another sip from her glass.

"What is it? Why now?"

"That's none of your business."

"Looks like you need to tell someone. You've alienated everyone who means anything to you," Oliver said.

She glared at him angrily, looking him straight in the eyes.

"You're free to go at any time, you know."

"You've hurt your husband, your children, your friends, your staff, and you're about to hurt my father. So why do it? I mean, you're obviously not thrilled with the arrangement either." 

"How the hell do you know!" Abbey snapped back.

"All due respect, Abbey, but you're curled up in a corner of a London hotel room drinking yourself into oblivion! So, why!"

"You want to know why?"

"Yes," Oliver replied, nodding.

"Because everything is wrong! I fucked it all up, okay!"

He was absolutely stunned when she burst out into tears. Never would he have thought he'd see the day when Abbey Bartlet cried in front of him, or anyone really.

"I have nothing. I'm alone with a bottle of Cabernet on my anniversary. This is what I've come to. It was so easy before, back when I was the one in control. Back when he was wrong, and I thought I had every right to seek revenge. I feigned happiness and pretended I wasn't phased in the least by any of this. I had no idea what I was doing. I just knew I was angry and I wanted to hurt him. Oh, Lord, I wanted to hurt him so bad. I wanted to hurt him the way he hurt me. Now I'm the one to blame. You're right. I've alienated everyone who means anything to me! Even my daughters think I'm a selfish bitch. And I am. That's the worst part! I am. But I thought could do it. I swear to God, I thought I could do it. I was so…sure I could do it without him. I can't even get through the day! Who was I kidding? Everyone. Everyone, I fooled everyone. I think I even fooled my husband into thinking I don't love him anymore. Now, there isn't a damn thing in this world I can do to fix it. We're both too fucking stubborn to confess, to admit our weaknesses. Tomorrow, I'll go out into the world and I'll smile like nothing's wrong. Like I'm so tough. Like I have no regrets in the world about what I've done."

She took a moment to catch her breath and look up at the person who unfortunately had been caught standing still, forced into hearing her confession.

"I would've been fine for awhile, you know. But then this day…these memories…anniversaries past. No anniversaries future. Everything I've ever known, gone. All my mistakes caught up with me today, when I remembered the laughter, the passionate arguments, the playful banter, the deep, intellectual discussions that lasted until the early hours of the morning. Waking up early and watching him as he slept, or waking up late to find him watching me. It's all gone. I sacrificed it to feed my ego, to fuel my need for vengeance. My marriage is nothing but old ruins now."

"I…I don't know what to say," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Abbey looked away from him and took another drink.

"Don't apologize."

"No, I'm sorry. I am. I didn't know."

Abbey shrugged, brushing it off, and took yet another drink.

"How could you have?"

"I shouldn't have been so insensitive. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that. I'm sorry."

She held up her glass as if to toast him, then brought it back down to her lips.

"So you've mentioned."

Oliver and Abbey heard the door to Zoey's room fly open, and footsteps nearby.

"Oliver!" Zoey called. "Oliver, the agents said you were in here…"

Oliver quickly jumped up, sent Abbey a sympathetic, apologetic look, then ran back into Zoey's room and closed the door.

"Where were you?" Zoey asked, curiously.

"I might ask you the same thing."

"I went down to the store across the street. I've officially cleaned out my mini-bar."

"I see. Ready to go?"

"Were you in my mother's…"

He looped his arm through hers and pulled her out of the room.

"Have you seen your mother today?"

Zoey's face clearly expressed her confusion as she answered.

"Not for a few hours. I was in there earlier, but she said that she…"

"Okay," Oliver said, interrupting her suddenly. "Let's go."

Washington, D.C.

"So this is the McGarry suite," Millicent Griffith observed, walking around Leo's hotel room skeptically.

Leo nodded.

"This is the McGarry suite. If you want to call it that."

"I hope you didn't bring me here because you were hoping to get lucky, old man."

"Who you calling old?"

"Look in the mirror and see for yourself," Millie replied. "It's nice. I like it."

"I don't exactly see much of it. It's got a bed, a shower, and a roof. And the whole maid thing does come in handy, I admit."

"Hmm."

She sat down on the couch in the middle of the room and crossed her legs, causing her skirt to hike up just a little bit.

"So. What'd you have in mind?"

He took a deep breath before sitting down beside her on the couch.

"Well, I…I was thinking of ordering room service and having a nice, quiet evening at…home."

Millie laughed.

"Home, huh?"

"Yeah," Leo answered, smiling. "How do you feel about filet mignon?"

"How does anyone feel about filet mignon?"

"I take it you approve."

"I do indeed."

"Shrimp cocktail?"

"Have you ever known me to turn down shrimp?"

"Not in the last thirty years," Leo answered.

"There you have it."

"I'm glad you came, Millie. I wasn't sure you'd want to go out with me again."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"The way I left you hanging at the restaurant last time…"

"Leo, you're the President's right hand man. You've got responsibilies. I'm not exactly a stranger to responsibilities myself. I have a pretty important job too, ya know," Millie responded.

"Thank you for understanding."

"I'm a doctor, Leo. I think you'll find I have an infinite amount of patience."

Leo laughed.

"Being a doctor doesn't mean you're patient. I think your best friend proves that pretty well."

"Abbey's patient! She just…doesn't like to wait."

"Sir, we are not leaving you," CJ stated.

The senior staff had the President surrounded in the Residence. He had changed for the evening into his sweat pants and Notre Dame tee-shirt, while the staff still wore their suits from the day.

"Guys, this really is not neccesary."

"We will not leave you alone on your anniversary, sir. We refuse," Josh said.

"You refuse?"

"Yes."

"What do you propose we do all evening then?" Jed questioned.

"I…well, we…hadn't thought of that," Sam replied.

"We could play Scrabble," Will suggested.

"Aha! Scrabble. Excellent."

The rest of the staff groaned.

"Thanks for that, Will," Sam said.

"We'll be here all night," Toby added.

"You know better than to suggest word games around the President!" Josh exclaimed.

"Damnit," CJ muttered under her breath.

"I'll go get the game! Gather around the dining room table, friends, 'cause you're about to get your asses kicked!"

London, England

"I'm sorry about this, Oliver," Zoey said, honestly.

"It's fine, Zoey. I swear to God, it's fine. You can stop apologizing."

They stood, side by side, in the hotel elevator going up.

"I promise we'll go back to Kent tomorrow. And I'll stay the night. It's just that...tonight of all nights, I'm worried about her. I don't want to leave her alone all night. She's never been alone on her anniversary before. I don't feel right out having fun with you while she's by herself."

The elevator stopped, the doors slid open, and they stepped out.

"Zoey."

He stopped her before she turned the key in her mother's door.

"What?"

"Fair warning. You may be surprised by what you see when you walk in there."

"What are you talking about?"

"Before we left for Kent, you were right. I was in your mother's room."

"But…"

"She's not in the best shape, Zoey."

"Screw this, I'm going in."

She quickly twisted the key, unlocked the door, and ran into her mother's room. It was just the way Oliver had left it many hours earlier. Only this time, its occupant wasn't drinking- because she wasn't conscious.


	27. Chapter 27

London, England

"Oh, my God! Mom!" Zoey screamed, racing to her mother's side.

Oliver stood a few feet away, almost motionless. He stared at the First Lady in utter astonishment. He should have known. And now they were too late.

"Mom! Mom, wake up! Oliver, get the agents. Now!"

After a delayed reaction, Oliver ran to the door and frantically informed the Secret Service agents standing outside of the situation inside. All ofthem instantly went into panic mode, talking into the microphones on their wrists, pulling out their cell phones, and a few of them bolting into the hotel room hurriedly. Within moments, he heard the sound of sirens, ambluances rushing down the streets. Oliver walked back into the room and watched Zoey sit beside her unconscious mother, crying copiously. He moved to stand beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Zoey."

She looked up at him, her lips trembling and her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm calling your father," Oliver stated, quietly.

"Oliver, no."

He nodded.

"He's still her husband. He has a right to know."

"Look at her! She's helpless. You can't go against her wishes like that!" Zoey cried.

"You didn't see her tonight. You didn't hear what she said. She needs him. And he's going to find out sooner or later."

"Oliver, don't."

He took his cell phone out of his pocket.

"Give me a number where I can reach him."

"No."

"Zoey, do you see her? She NEEDS him!"

Zoey glanced down at her mother, distraught, then looked back up at her boyfriend.

"Give me the phone. I'll dial."

He handed the phone to her.

"Thank you."

She pushed a few buttons, then handed it back to him.

"It's 6am in Washington. He should be in the office. Tell Debbie who you are and she'll put you through"  
He put the phone to his ear and waited.

"Hello. Yes. Oliver Prescott for President Bartlet please."

Washington, D.C.

"Who?" Debbie Fiderer questioned.

"Oliver Prescott. Sir Anthony Prescott's son. I've got Zoey Bartlet sitting right next to me if you don't…"

"Oh, I believe you. I just don't know what it is you want with the President."

"Please, this is an emergency. It's Debbie, isn't it?" Oliver asked.

"Yes…"

"Please, Debbie. Do it for Zoey. Do it for the First Lady."

Debbie hesitated, but ultimately relented.

"He's got a breakfast meeting in fifteen minutes. Don't be long."

"Thank you!"

Debbie stood from her desk and walked through the open door of the Oval Office.

"Mr. President?"

Jed looked up, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah."

"Phone call for you."

"Who is it?"

"It's…Oliver Prescott, sir," Debbie said.

"Who?"

"Sir Anthony's son."

Jed scowled.

"Oh, him. What the hell does he want?"

"I don't know, sir, but he says it's urgent. And I believe him."

"All right. I'll take it."

Debbie nodded.

"Line three, sir."

"Thank you."

"Thank you, sir," Debbie replied, backing out of the room.

Jed took his glasses off and put them into his shirt pocket before answering the phone.

"Oliver."

"Good evening, Mr. President," Oliver said, nervously.

"It's morning here, Oliver."

"Right, I apologize."

"What do you need?" Jed asked.

"Sir, I have Zoey here with me. She would have called you herself but she's..barely coherent."

"What do you mean? What's going on!"

"I'm afraid they're…taking the First Lady to the hospital, sir," Oliver explained.

Immediately, Jed imagined the worst case scenario. His stomach dropped, his heart stopped, and his eyes widened.

"What happened?"

"She had kind of a rough night. It looks like she consumed four bottles of Cabernet and half a bottle of whiskey."

"Oh, my God," Jed whispered, in shock.

"Zoey and I found her a few moments ago. The ambulance just arrived to take her to the hospital."

"Okay. I'm coming."

"Sir?"

"I'm coming to London. I'll be there this afternoon. Sometime mid-morning in your time."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you for calling, Oliver. You don't know how much I appreciate it. Tell Zoey I'm on my way."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Jed hung up the phone, stood up and walked briskly to his secretary's desk.

"Debbie, I need Leo. We're going to London."

"For real this time?" Debbie asked.

"That's right. For real this time."

Kent, England

Sir Anthony Prescott and his daughter, Daphne Prescott-Windemere were sprawled out on lawn chairs in the spacious backyard of their Kent mansion. For both of them, relaxing in this quiet, peaceful atmosphere was more than welcome. It was rare that either of them got a chance to slow down for awhile and catch up.

"When is Oliver coming back?" Daphne asked.

"I don't know. He said he'd call," Tony replied.

"How come you didn't go with them? Abbey's your…girlfriend, after all. Is that what you're calling her? Your girlfriend?"

Tony chose to tactfully ignore her comments.

"Abbey said she needed to be alone. It's her anniversary today."

"If she wants to be alone, why did Oliver and Zoey go back to see her?"

"Zoey was worried."

"You're not worried?" Daphne said.

"Why would I be worried? Abbey's perfectly capable of taking care of herself."

"Well, why was Zoey worried then?"

"I don't know," Tony answered, quietly.

"You know, we haven't properly discussed this situation yet."

"What situation would that be, Daph?"

"The Abbey situation."

"I wasn't aware it was a…situation. Do you have concerns?" Tony asked, mockingly.

"Dad, I'm serious."

"As am I. Please express your concerns, Mrs. Windemere."

"Well, needless to say, I'm not completely comfortable with it."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, that's so!" Daphne exclaimed.

"What aren't you comfortable with, love?"

"Among other things, I'd say the part where you're dating the First Lady of the United States is a rather prominent matter!"

"I see."

"She's married, Dad. She's married to a very wealthy politician, you could say. Possibly the most well-known man in the world. Which makes her the most well-known woman in the world."

"They're separated," Tony said.

"Regardless! Why are you persuing her, Dad? Is it publicity?"

"No, Daphne!"

"Don't tell me you actually like her," Daphne said with disgust.

"No, I don't like her."

"Good."

"I really like her. In fact, I like her so much that I think I…"

"Stop! Please. I don't want to hear it."

"You asked," Tony replied.

"I also find it a bit dodgy how you're dating Mrs. Bartlet and Oliver's gone after Zoey. I'd like a little inside information on what that's all about, thank you."

"Merely coincedence, darling."

"Oh, I highly doubt that."

"Just because you connived your way into marrying for fame and publicity doesn't mean Oliver and I are walking the same road, you know," Tony said.

"That was low, Dad."

"Well, I'm simply pointing out that…"

"I don't like it. I don't like you dating the First Lady and I don't like Oliver dating the First Daughter."

"That's very unfortunate, darling. I'm sorry to hear that."

"You mean you're going to let this continue!"

"I bloody well am, yes!"

"This is going to come back to haunt you, Dad. Mark my words. No good can come of this. No good whatsoever."

Washington, D.C.

The morning sunshine shone brightly through the curtains of the hotel room window, inadvertantly falling on the two bodies curled up under the covers of the queen size bed. The more intense the sunlight became, the more the bodies stirred, releasing themselves from the fatigue that had conquered them hours before. Just as they started to fully awaken, the shrill sound of the phone ringing pierced their ears and made them groan with displeasure.

"Excuse me. Sorry," Leo McGarry said gruffly, as he leaned over her to pick up the phone.

"What a way to wake up," Millicent Griffith remarked, sarcastically.

"What the hell do you want?" Leo said into the phone's receiver. "Debbie, is this really…yeah. Okay. Yeah, I understand. I serve at the disgruntled yet whimsical pleasure of what's his name in the Oval Office. Yeah. I'll be there as soon as I can. Uh huh. Goodbye."

Leo slammed the phone down and returned it to its place on the nightstand, then fell back onto the bed, letting out a deep sigh of exhasperation.

"You have to go, huh?" Millie asked, softly.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. At least last night was completely interruption-free. We can be grateful for that."

Leo grinned.

"Yes, we can."

"So, what's going on at the office? Jed's staging a nutty and Debbie called you to intervene?"

"I don't know, most likely. She mentioned something about London. Probably something with the Prime Minister."

"Or something with Abbey," Millie said.

"Oh, yeah. Damnit."

"You know, this isn't going to just go away, Leo."

"What? Abbey?"

"Yeah!"

"I know. I'm just not sure how to handle it anymore. Everytime I think we've got it under control, she throws us another curve ball. It's the never-ending crisis."

"She's not doing it to hurt you, you know," Millie said.

"Yeah? Then who's she trying to hurt?"

"Well, maybe a few weeks ago she was trying to hurt you guys. But now…now, she's just trying to hurt herself."

"How do you figure?" Leo questioned.

"She knows what she did was wrong. Now she's stuck in a whole she can't climb out of. So she's hurting herself."

"Yeah. Well, I can't wait to get into the office and find out just what she's done now!" 


	28. Chapter 28

Washington, D.C.

"Good morning, Mr. President," Leo McGarry said, waltzing into the Oval Office.

Jed immediately stood and walked toward him.

"Pack your things, buddy. We're going to London."

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Don't try to argue with me, Leo. We're going. I don't care what you've got lined up for me today, cancel it," Jed ordered.

"Can I ask why?"

"Abbey's in trouble."

"You know what I'm thinking right now, don't you?" Leo asked.

"Leo, I'm serious. We have to go. I don't care who you want to take, but we have to go."

"What kind of trouble?"

"She's in the hospital," Jed replied.

"You're kidding me. What the hell happened?"

"You remember what happens when you down four bottles of wine and half a bottle of whiskey, don't you?"

"She didn't," Leo said, his jaw hanging open in disbelief.

"She did. Come on, do what you need to do. We need to get there as soon as possible."

Manchester, New Hampshire

Elizabeth Bartlet Westin paced up and down her living room floor, wringing her hands nervously. Doug, Annie, and Gus sat on the couch, in a row, watching her silently.

"Honey, why don't you sit down for a minute?" Doug suggested.

Liz shook her head fervently.

"No. I can't. Not until she calls."

"It'll probably be awhile, Mom," Annie said.

"Damnit!" Liz exclaimed, suddenly.

She walked over to the window and looked out at the front yard.

"Guys," Doug said, tilting his head in a way that gestured for them to leave the room.

"Okay," Annie said.

She took Gus' hand and lead him out of the living room and upstairs.

"Four whole bottles, Doug. Four. Not to mention the whiskey. How could she do this!"

"Liz, come on over and sit down. You're gonna drive yourself crazy."

"I don't believe her! Do you believe her! This is ridiculous. Next time it'll be scotch and sleeping pills. If she's so goddamn unhappy, why doesn't she just come home? I don't understand."

"Apparently it's more complicated than that. You don't know what's going through her head," Doug said.

Liz groaned.

"Why won't Zoey call me!"

"She said she'd call when there was a change."

"It's been two hours. Why isn't she awake yet?"

"I'm sure the doctors are doing the best they can," Doug said, calmly.

"Oh, God. What if…what if she never wakes up?"

"Liz!"

"I'm serious! It could happen."

"It won't happen!"

"Yeah," she said, absently. "You know, the press is going to have a field day with this one."

"Don't even think about that yet. The press is the least of our problems."

"I wouldn't say the least. Sure, the press isn't our first priority but…it's not too far down there. Especially when they get wind of this. You think Mom's a scandal already? Just wait."

Washington, D.C.

When he returned from the Oval Office and made the arrangments for the London trip, Leo asked Margaret to get the Surgeon General on the phone for him. He sat down at his desk, bracing himself for the call. He had no idea how to tell her. How do you tell someone their best friend is unconscious in a hospital thousands of miles away?

"Leo!" Margaret called. "Line two."

"Thanks." He leaned back in his chair, then picked up the phone. "Millie."

"Hey there."

"How are you?"

"I'm good. What was your big emergency this morning?" Millie asked.

"That's actually why I'm calling."

"I didn't do anything, I swear. No online chats, nothing."

"No, no. Not you. Listen, Mil…it's Abbey," Leo replied.

"Abbey? What happened?"

"She's in the hospital."

"What!"

"Four bottles of Cabernet and half a bottle of whiskey."

"Oh, my God. Damnit, Abbey! Damn it all to hell!" Millie exclaimed, angrily.  
"Ignoring the fact that she's all the way across the Atlantic Ocean and can't hear you, she's also unconscious."

"Well, that doesn't surprise me. The woman cannot hold her liquor. What's the doctor's prognosis?"

"I haven't spoken to the doctor. But I reckon I will. We're on our way to London."

"Who's we!"

"The President, the secret service, the Air Force one crew, the…"

"Jed wants to see her?" Millie asked, surprised.

"He's adament about it."

"That's a good sign!"

"For you, maybe. I have to clear the President's schedule for I don't know how long!" Leo said.

"Just imagine how much easier things will be if she wakes up and he's there. They'll cry, they'll bare their souls to each other, they'll make up, and they'll come home. Together. Problem solved."

"No chance in hell it's going to be that simple, Millie."

"I know," she sighed. "Wishful thinking."

"Okay. Listen, I've got to run. For the first time in five years, the President is rushing US out the door."

"Take me with you."

"What?"

"To London. Take me with you to London."

"Millie…"

"She's my best friend! I have to see her."

London, England

Zoey, Oliver, Tony, and Daphne sat in the private waiting room at the hospital. It had been over an hour since a doctor had spoken to them and given them any updates. All they could do was sit and wait patiently.

"Damnit, it's been over an hour," Tony said.

"They'll update us when they can, Dad."

Oliver shot his older sister an evil glare.

"What are you even doing here, Daphne? You don't like Abbey!"

"I don't dislike her! I just don't like that she's dating my father," Daphne replied, haughtily.

"You and me both," Zoey mumbled.

"Zoey?" Oliver said. "I thought you were okay with this now."

"I don't want to talk about this here."

"Fine."

"You know what? We're all here, and we've got nothing but time right now. So let's talk about this," Tony suggested.

"Dad, come on," Oliver said.

"No. Let's get everything out in the open. It'll be like an AA meeting, or group therapy. Daph, would you like to go first?"

"Uh. Well. I'm Daphne, I'm twenty-five, and I'm…"

"Please be serious."

"All right then, here goes. I find this situation…absolutely scandalous. The First Lady of the United and a man of English nobility, of great stature and importance. Not to mention she's still married, and to the President, no less! There. I've said it. I'm through," Daphne stated.

"Do either of you have a rebuttal?" Tony asked Oliver and Zoey.

"I do," Oliver said. "I don't think we should be worrying about the affect this is having on our social status, or the politics of it. This is a personal matter. If anything, we should be discussing ethics."

"I agree," Zoey interjected.

"Then, by all means, discuss ethics," Tony said.

"Dad, why is it that you don't have anything to add to this conversation?" Oliver asked.

"Because I don't have a problem with the relationship, you three do."

"Well, you should," Daphne said.

"Excuse me," Dr. Walter Luft said, announcing his presence in the room.

Zoey, Oliver, Tony, and Daphne immediately stood anxiously awaiting to hear what Dr. Luft had to tell them, finally.

"How is she?" Tony questioned.

"There's been no change that we can see. It looks like she's going to be in this state for awhile. You all might want to go home and get some sleep"  
"You're certain?" Oliver said.

"Absolutely. It could be days, honestly."

"I'm staying," Zoey said, adamently. "Tony, you should go. Get some sleep. I'll call if there's any change."

"Dad, she's right. I know you're worried, but you need to get some rest," Daphne said.

Tony nodded.

"Oliver, are you staying or going?"

"Staying."

"Okay. Call me."

"We will."

Washington, D.C.

"What are you gonna tell the press?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," CJ replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"Meeting with the Prime Minister. Just say he has a meeting with the Prime Minister," Josh said.

"Concerning what?"

"Concerning…anything! Make something up."

"I can't make something up!" CJ said. "What if the Prime Minister gets wind of it and thinks 'hey, I don't remember scheduling a meeting with the President of the United States!'"

"Fair point."

"The President is on Air Force One headed to London as we speak. The press is going to come in tomorrow wonder where the hell their Commander-in-Chief is," Toby said. "We have to tell them something."

"They're gonna assume it's related to the First Lady," Will said.

"Right now, they'd assume anything is related to the First Lady," Sam answered.

"That's because lately, everything has been," CJ said.

"Here's a thought," Josh interjected. "How about we tell them the truth? I mean, they're going to find out sooner or later. The First Lady basically OD-ed on depressants.That's what they're going to say. No booze, depressants. The First Lady is now Judy Garland to the people. Or, she will be when this gets out. Why not just throw it out there now? Instead of it looking like we hid it from them."

"I hate to admit it, but Josh has a point," Toby responded.

"Great. Then YOU tell the press!"


	29. Chapter 29

Washington, D.C.

CJ Cregg stood at her podium in the press room, staring at the people who sat impatiently before her. They could tell something was amiss just by looking at the press secretary's wandering eyes and trembling hands. CJ glanced over at Carol, who was standing to the side. Carol nodded reassuringly, prompting CJ to return her attention to the press, with slightly more confidence now.

"Good morning, everyone."

She paused, trying to conjure up the perfect way to make the announcement that would undoubtedly monopolize the news cycle for weeks, and then some. When all subtle approaches seemed to fail in her mind, CJ decided to just plunge right into the deep end.

"At 1:21 AM, England time, First Lady Abigail Bartlet was discovered unconscious in her London hotel room by her youngest daughter and a friend. Her unconscious state was triggered by an overdose of alcohol, namely a mixture of red wine and whiskey. Her detail escorted her Charing Cross Hospital on Fulham Palace Road in London. Upon hearing this, the President scheduled an emergency trip to London. As this moment, President Bartlet is on Air Force One and will be landing shortly."

The second CJ paused to take a breath, each one of the reporters in the room shouted her name urgently. She sighed, and pointed to one in the front.

"CJ, is the First Lady still unconscious?"

"As far as I know, yes."

"Yesteday was the First Couple's thirty-eighth anniversary. Do you think that may have had something to do with Mrs. Bartlet's overdose?"

"I really couldn't say."

"Did Mrs. Bartlet spend the evening alone?"

"That I don't know. When she was found, she was alone."

"So Sir Anthony Prescott wasn't with her?"

"When I say alone, surprising though it may be, I mean alone," CJ answered.

"CJ, does the First Lady have a history of alcohol abuse?

"She does not."

"Will the President be doing any business in London?"

"That depends on timing and scheduling, as this trip was very sudden and last minute."

"When will he be returning?"

"A day or two, I expect. I'll let you know when I find out for sure. All right, that's it, everybody. I'll see you in a couple hours."

London, England

From inside the hospital's private waiting room, Zoey Bartlet and Oliver Prescott sensed the commotion and confusion outside the room. They opened the door and glanced out, just in a time to see their area of the hospital swarmed by Secret Service agents.

"I guess my dad's here," Zoey assumed. "I can't believe he came."

They finally caught glimpse of the President, though he was surrounded by men and women in black.

"Dad!"

Zoey ran into his arms.

"How is she?" Jed asked, anxiously.

"She's still in a co…"

"Don't say it."

"Don't say co…."

"Zoey!"

"Okay, okay. I didn't think you'd come," Zoey said.

"Why not?"

"Well, because…"

"Separation or no separation, that's still the woman I love in there!" Jed said, walking toward Abbey's room.

The door closed behind him when he walked in. Oliver stood beside Zoey and nudged her shoulder with his, grinning broadly.

"What."

"I told you he'd come. Did you hear that?"

Zoey's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Who's side on you on here, Brutus?"

"What do you mean?" Oliver questioned.

"Looks to me like you're trying to get my parents back together. What about your father?"

"What about him?"

"You tell me!" Zoey exclaimed. "You're not being loyal to the crown."

"I'm a sucker for happy endings."

"Even when it's your own father who gets screwed?"

"Not exactly the way I would put it, but yes."

"It's not just some ploy to win me over?"

"I've already won you over, sweetheart," Oliver replied, with a wink.

"Don't be so sure. I'm pretty hard-to-get, you know."

"Not so far."

"Yeah, but it ain't over yet!"

Millie sat on the bed in her hotel room, flipping through channels on the television aimslessly. Leo sat at the desk nearby, reading some papers.

"Leo."

"Hmm."

He didn't look up.

"Leo."

"What."

Still, his gaze remained loyal to what he was reading.

"Leo!"

Leo's head jerked up, his eyes burning into hers.

"What!"

"Call me crazy, but I tend to like it when people actually look at me when I speak to them," Millie retorted.

"Fine," Leo granted. "What is it?"

"Explain to me again why we're cooped up in this hotel, while the President is at the hospital."

"I told you, we'll go to the hospital later. The President wants some time alone with Abbey."

"To do WHAT? The woman is unconscious, for Christ's sake!"

"I don't know, Millie! He gives the orders, I just execute them. If he wants to be alone in a room with his comatose wife, who am I to deny him that right?" Leo said.

"How long's he going to be?"

"Depends."

"On what?" Millie asked.

"On whether or not he decides to talk to her. Once he gets started, I don't think there'll be an end in sight."

"Yeah, I think that's a pretty fair assumption. You know, given his track record."

"Mmm-hmm."

Leo returned his attention to the papers. She sat up abruptly, with a childlike enthusiasm.

"You know what I'd like to do?" Millie inquired.

"Sit there quietly without another word?"

"Hmm. Let me think….no."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Leo muttered to himself.

"Because you've actually met me?"

"That would do it."

"Damnit!" Millie exclaimed.

"What now?" Leo asked, uninterested.

"I forget what I wanted to do."

"That's awful," Leo deadpanned.

"That was your plan all along, wasn't it? Run me off the tracks and I'll forget where I was going in the first place?"

"Well, it tends to do the trick."

Millie rolled her eyes.

"Remind me again why I'm sleeping with you."

"Because I'm irresistable and you can't keep your hands off me."

"Don't flatter yourself, McGarry."

"Why not? No one else is going to," Leo answered.

"Small wonder that is."

It was true. She really was unconscious. It wasn't a bad dream or a rumor. There she was, right before his very eyes, lying motionless in a flimsy old hospital bed, tangled up in tubes and wires.

Jed took a deep breath, pulled a chair up beside her bed, and sat down. He gazed at her for a few moments, foolishly thinking that his stare could will her awake. It took an hou of wrestling with his conscience before he could actually speak to her. He knew his words would be falling on deaf ears and somehow, that made it easier.

"Wine and whiskey, huh? What's next? Sleeping pills? Razor blades? In looking for the easy way out, the short cut, you've landed yourself on the longest pathway home. You should have just called me. Hell, you should have come home. Wherever home is. It's not here in London, I'll tell you that. And it's not with what's-his-name either. Nobility Man."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking her over.

"That was a dirty trick you played there, Abigail. You've been playing with fire for months now. Looks like you just got burned. Well. Maybe this was exactly what you needed. A good slap in the face to jolt you back to reality. Then again, maybe not. But I'll tell you this. Somehow, it's comforting to see that this separation, though it was your idea, hasn't been easy on you either. In fact, I think it's tearing you apart. No chance in hell you'd ever admit it, but I know you. Two signatures on a piece of paper won't keep me from knowing you better than anyone else ever could, Abbey. Yeah, I made the wrong decision in keeping the Shareef thing a secret from you. I screwed up. I've screwed up before, and I'll screw up again. I'm only human, despite what the American people may think."

Jed dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his temples before turning his attention back this completely oblivious, unaware wife.

"That was some revenge you plotted. I gotta hand it to you, it was wicked. Not to mention clever. What did you think it was going to do? Make you feel better? Yeah, you're lying unconscious in a hospital bed. Feel better? I didn't think so. But then, I suppose it wasn't a total loss. It got me here, after all. Like you didn't know I'd come running the minute I heard. You knew. Oh, what the hell am I saying? There's no way you'd have done this if you'd known. God forbid I see you during your time of weakness and vulnerability. God forbid I see your pillar of strength come crashing to the ground in one big crumbling heap. You're only human too, ya know. You have limits, you're flawed. You don't always have to be the tough one. If you were to come to me shaken and afraid, exposed and defenseless, you think I'd turn you away? Is that what thirty-eight years of 'for better or for worse' have shown you? You're not in this alone, Abbey. You never have been. It takes two to build a strong marriage, and it takes two to ruin it. If you were to come to me shaken and afraid, you think I'd turn you away? Is that what thirty-eight years of 'for better or for worse' have shown you? Am I really that bad a husband? Or does it make it easier on you now that you've got someone to blame? I don't know! I don't know what you're thinking anymore. Just when I think I've got you pegged, you hit me with something else. It's all just a game to you. A simple act of vengeance. "What am I supposed to do, Abbey? Wait until you've figured things out? Wait until you've come to your senses and decided to come home? Until you've realized you made a mistake, you weren't thinking, you were disillusioned and disoriented by what I'd done to you, by my betrayal. No doubt you'll blame it on that. And then what am I supposed to do? Welcome you back with open arms? You'd like to think that, wouldn't you? The sad thing is, it's true. It's all true." 


	30. Chapter 30

London, England

After an hour in Abbey's hospital room, Jed finally emerged. He walked slowly, head bowed, through the halls until he reached the private waiting room. Zoey and Oliver immediately sprung from their chairs and scurried over to him urgently. However, his gaze fell between them and locked upon a lone figure in the corner, who hadn't bothered to stand up. Jed stepped between Zoey and Oliver, and approached Sir Anthony Prescott, who immediately stood.

"Mr. President," Tony stuttered, partly of our apprehension, partly out of embarassment.

Jed studied him carefully, from his facial expression all the way down to his designer shoes.

"Tony."

"Sir, I…"

"I'm not angry at you, Tony," Jed stated, calmly.

"You're not…"

"No. My wife is a grown woman and is perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Unfortunately, you were her victim. In a way, I feel bad for you. Something tells me you really care for her. The thing is, I do too. And I outrank you. You know what that mean?"

"No…no, sir."

"It means I win, Tony."

"Sir?"

"You don't have to know what that means now, but you will. In the meantime, I need you to do me a favor," Jed said.

"Yes, sir."

"Actually, it's more like a command."

"A command?"

"That's right, Tony. If you tell my wife that I was here today, through my close personal relationship with the Queen and the Prime Minister, I will have you demoted and shipped off to Romania. You will breathe not one word of this to her. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. President."

"Do I have your word on that?"

"Absolutely."

"Thank you. And now comes the favor."

"What's that, sir?" Tony asked.

"Try and persuade Abbey to get some help," Jed said, somberly. "A psychiatrist. Someone. I don't care. She needs to…"

"I know. And I'll do my best."

"But don't push her. If you push her, she'll say no. She hates that."

"Yes, sir. I know."

"Good. Not a word, Tony."

"Yes, sir. She'll never know you were here," Tony replied.

"Now if only you weren't here, things would be perfect."

Baltimore, Maryland

"Ellie! El, are you all right?" Mark called, as he let himself into her apartment using his key.

Ellie Bartlet was lying still on her bed, her eyes fixated on the stucco ceiling. She had already chewed her fingernails down as far as she could, and had moved on picking at a few scabs and biting her lower lip involuntarily.

"I came as soon as I heard. I saw it on the news. Why didn't you call me?"

Mark sat on the edge of the head, and gently pulled her right hand away from the scab on her left arm.

"Why didn't you call me?" He repeated.

"I haven't called anyone. Liz has been leaving me messages all day," Ellie said.

"You should talk to her. It'll do you good."

"Thanks, Doctor."

"I am a licensed psychologist, you know," Mark said.

"Yeah, yeah."

"She's going to be okay, Ellie."

"I know. But we're not."

"What?"

"My mother and I. Our relationship. I'll never be able to see her the same way again."

"What way is that?" Mark asked.

"I don't know, really."

"She's flawed, El. You have to accept that. She's not the perfect human being you idealized her into."

"I don't think that about her," Ellie replied, defensively.

"Sure, not anymore. But you did."

Ellie nodded, pensively, allowing his words to sink in.

"Mark."

"Yes, dear?" Mark replied, a twinkle in his eye.

"I want you to do something for me."

"Anything you ask, kiddo."

"First, don't call me kiddo."

"Duly noted."

"Second, I want you to find me a good psychologist," Ellie stated, monotonously.

"Are you serious?"

"The best you know. This isn't gonna go away by itself."

London, England

He kept trying to tell himself that he had done the right thing. Leaving her had been for the best. He hated to do it. He hated walking away from her, the distance between them growing with every step he took. Zoey said he was wrong to do it, but she didn't understand. She just wanted to see her parents together again. Ellie and Elizabeth would undoubtedly have the same reaction. He needed to talk to someone who would be objective (in other words, tell him he was right).

Jed walked through the hotel in search of that person, with his agents trailing close behind him. He stopped at the room nearets to his own, and asked his agents to wait outside. Without knocking, he carged through the door into the room.

"Leo!"

His attention was immediately drawn to the seated figure of his best friend, and the figure of the United States Surgeon General, leaning over his frame, her arms draped over his shoulders suggestively. Their heads snapped to the side, taking in the sight of their Commander-in-Chief with astonishment.

"Mr. President," Leo said, standing up.

"Sorry to…disturb you," Jed replied, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Oh, you're not, sir," Millie said, quickly. "We were just…just…uh…"

"Discussing…" Leo added.

"A thing."

"Yes! Discussing a thing."

"The thing actually."

"So…not just any thing," Jed said, with amusement.

"No, sir," Millie replied. "The ultimate thing."

"The thing to end all things," Leo agreed.

"I see. Important business then."

"Absolutely, Mr. President," Millie said.

"Guys, you wanna tell me what's going on?" Jed asked.

Leo and Millie exchanged nervous, perplexed glances.

"I'm sorry. We should have told you before, sir," Leo stated.

"No, we shouldn't have. It's our business," Millie hissed at him.

"He's the President, Millie," Leo answered, quietly, through clenched teeth.  
"So? Did Ben and J.Lo consult the President about their affair before they told anyone else?"

"First of all, I don't ever want to hear you say J.Lo again. Second of all…"

"Guys," Jed said. "Enough already."

"Sorry, sir."

"So. Are you two just enjoying each other's company from time to time, playing Scrabble and drinking hot chocolate, or are you sleeping together?"

"Uh…"

"I take it you're sleeping together then."

"Among other things, sir," Millie replied.

"Do these other things include playing Scrabble and drinking hot chocolate?

"Well…"

"Cause if so, I want to join."

"Due respect, sir, but nobody wants to play words games with you," Millie said.

"Touche, Dr. Griffith. How long has this been going on?"

"Not long," Leo responded.

"How long is not long?"

"A few weeks maybe."

"Leo, I thought you disliked Millie for cheating on Scott," Jed said.

"No, sir."

"Millie, I thought you disliked Leo for neglected Jenny."

"No, sir."

"Hmm. I find this very suspicious. However, I suppose it's not in my executive power to put a stop to this relationship. That being said…Leo, are your intentions honorable?"

"Uh…yes, sir."

"Will you neglect Millie as you did Jenny?" Jed questioned.

"Hopefully not."

"Millie, will you cheat on Leo as you did Scott?"

"Hopefully not."

"Good enough. I hereby deem this relationship acceptable and legitimate."

"We appreciate that, Mr. President," Millie said.

"Don't you mock me, Millicent."

"Sir, what is it you came in here for?"

"Just to tell you I'm back from the hospital. You can go now if you want to."

"Well…how'd it go?" Leo asked.

"She's still unconscious. I did speak to her British boy toy though."

"Oh, God."

"And I was perfectly civil to him, I'll have you know."

"How badly did you hurt him?" Leo deadpanned.

At 3:04 A.M. the next morning, Abbey Bartlet opened her eyes for the first time in well over twenty-four hours. At 3:31 A.M., her room was filled with people. At 3:47, she was left alone with Sir Anthony Prescott, with the door tightly closed. At 4:11, the nurses ordered everyone to go home. Dr. Bartlet needed her rest.

At 4:27, she fell asleep. At 6:02, her eyes fluttered open yet again; she was restless. At 7:01, she reached for the phone. It was too far away At 9:19, Zoey crept into the room, and was surprised to find her mother awake.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi, sweetheart."

She moved to sit in the chair beside Abbey's bed, and found herself strangely nervous around her mother.

"You're up."

"I'm up."

Abbey smiled reassuringly.

"I feel weird about this, but can I…talk to you about something?"

"Of course you can."

"Did Tony talk to you about getting help?" Zoey asked, softly.

Abbey nodded.

"Yes."

"Have you thought about it?"

"I don't know, hon. Therapy…you know. I'm a doctor. It's…"

"Mom, you're a medical doctor. You can't help yourself in a situation like this."

"You want me to do this?" Abbey asked.

"Yes, Mom. I do," Zoey replied, firmly.

Abbey sighed, relenting.

"All right."

"Really? You'll do it?"

"Only because you asked me to."

"Thank you."

"If I ever get out of this place, that's the second thing I'll do," Abbey said.

"What's the first?"

"Pour myself a shot of whiskey."

"Mom!" Zoey exclaimed.

"Kidding! I'm kidding!"

"Not funny."

"It was, actually."

Zoey rolled her eyes.

"I'm gonna be the one needing therapy after all this is over."

THE END. 


End file.
